The Heart Of The Ocean
by peachykeenjellybean92
Summary: Living a life indebted to an abusive and powerful man, Elena Gilbert finds herself desperately yearning for a life she can never have, with a man she can without a doubt, never have. But against her better judgement, she can't stay away. And neither can he. Can the sexy and confident, Damon Salvatore, figure out a way to cut her from the ties to a cruel life?
1. Chapter 1

**1**

_That's the thing about the ocean, people are so completely taken by its mystery, by the diamond-like glisten of the waters, and the promise of freedom, that they forget it holds the ability to suck the life from you._

Dead; that's how he made her feel, like she was suffocating inside an 84 by 28 inch casket beneath six feet of soil. Most people would just tell her to leave him, it's not like they were bound by marriage or actual feelings of love or fondness. She was, however, bound to him by duty. Shackled to a life filled with glamour and money that ceased to interest her, a life she so desperately yearned for that she agreed to become nothing more than a trophy upon somebody's arm. She realised now how meaningless that desperation had been, because her life was meaningless. The empty life she couldn't seem to bear four years ago, the life of complete nothingness, was the exact life she had right now.

It was ironic; she was surrounded by New York's finest in a building that could be mistaken for a palace, sipping from a glass filled with expensive champagne, wearing a gown of pure silk and she felt nothing but the same loneliness and regret she had felt all those years ago.

Stealing constant glances over to the opposite side of the hall; to lock with the pair of ocean blue eyes that made her tremble and feel more alive than she had for years, was the only thing that made this evening sufferable.

"Sweetheart," The voice from beside her that made her want to crawl out of her skin and the forced affection that made her want to vomit dragged her back to the present. With the little effort she could muster, she gave a smile to the man who was 22 years her senior, the man that should be considered her saviour, instead considered the anchor that fastened her to the seabed of an ocean.

"Yes?" she replied sweetly, tucking a lock of her long brown curls behind her ear and taking another sip of champagne, earning a momentary glare from Frank.

"I would like you to meet Mr Smith," he gestured towards the tall man in front of her, who she assumed to be no more than in his mid-thirties, handsome features and bright green eyes that would have been captivating if she hadn't already seen and experienced the most beautiful man any woman would ever come across. "Mr Smith, this is Elena; my fiancée." He ran a soft trail of his fingers down her bare arm; a gesture that would usually be seen as sweet, but from him, made her internally roll her eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr Smith" Elena chimed, extending a hand for him to shake and was pleasantly taken by surprise when he rotated her slender hand in his grasp and brought it to his lips.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine; Elena" he released her hand and gave a charming smile.

Even after four years of this, she still wasn't adjusted to such well treatment. She still felt the same flattery and hot rise of a blush to her cheeks she had at the start. The last time someone had made such a gesture, her heart had quickened its pace so intensely she feared it might jump out of her chest.

"My, my, Frank, she is exquisite."

And the flattery was gone. Rule number one to being the trophy of one of the most powerful men in New York; expect to be treated as such.

"Sorry, could you just excuse me?" Elena requested in the same sweet and polite manner, set down her empty glass of champagne on a passing tray that balanced on the hand of a handsome waiter and picked up another in attempt to satisfy her craving for bliss. Honestly, it was a good substitute for what she was actually craving; intimacy, love, sex, passion. Sometimes she doubted if she ever would have it.

She weaved through the small groups of people, desperately hoping the end of the maze was close. Her body relaxed from its tense posture as the door labelled 'Ladies' came into her line of sight, subtly quickening her movements towards it, her lungs gasping for a release.

She just needed five minutes. Five minutes to take a breath.

And just like the first intake of oxygen after resurfacing from the ocean depth, there he was, a foot away from her. Prominent, masculine facial features that begged to be traced, jet black hair that had been smoothed with nothing more than his hands and fell sexily around his magnificent face, a body you could just tell was immaculate under the clothes, and the eyes ; the eyes that reminded her of the sky on a summers day.

Her breath hitched and he shot her a crooked smile.

"Is someone desperately searching for a toilet to throw up in?" he arched an eyebrow playfully.

"We both know I don't eat anything to throw up." Elena naturally played along; it had become sort of their thing to banter about her weight. It was true, she was tiny. She _had_ to be according to Frank, but it wasn't due to an eating disorder of any kind, she was just naturally very slim.

"I'm pretty sure I've seen you eat two whole pizzas in one night." He pointed out.

"Mm, don't tell Frank that," she warned. If Frank ever found her eating like that, she knew she would be on the receiving end of a lecture about how important it is to watch her weight, since 'everything was about image'. What he actually meant was; he didn't want his trophy fiancée walking around with any scrap of fat on her.

He leaned in and let out a soft whisper. "There are a lot of things I wouldn't tell Frank about."

"Damon…"

She wavered but couldn't seem to step away from the close proximity, the sweet intoxication of his breath gluing her black heels to the floor under the pool of violet silk massed around them. She couldn't count in her head how many times she just wanted to reach out, trace her fingers along the pale glow of his skin, or revel in the sweet taste she imagined his lips would provide.

He sighed harshly before rearing back slightly, standing at a more appropriate distance from her heated body. "I know. I get it; the bosses' girl and all." The disappointment that washed over his beautiful features made her heart clench. Her body was addicted to the way he made it feel, the silent buzz that coursed through every inch of her when he gave her a look of desire, and the hammering of her heart inside her chest when he smiled.

Guilt overwhelmed her; she was being selfish, and unfair.

He could have any woman he wanted, get involved with any beautiful girl he took his fancy to, but the very thought of him with someone that wasn't her, made her stomach knot profoundly. Just because she was miserable didn't mean he had to be. It's not like they could ever be together, not like anything could ever happen, Frank would destroy both of them.

"I'm sorry." She whispered sadly and let her eyes fall to the floor.

"I don't want you to be sorry, I want you to realise what you deserve." Damon told her firmly, lifted her chin to the reunite their eyes and gave her a smile that threatened to buckle her knees. Elena swallowed thickly and felt her heart mourn the loss of his presence as he turned and disappeared from sight.

She didn't know what she deserved, if she deserved anything. Maybe this was it, the best her life could get; a loveless 'show' engagement to a man who treated her like property. Things could be worse. He took care of her, provided her with a beautiful home, clothes, and a job. A few bruises to the face were a small price to pay.

Did she need anything else? Did she need love? From what she heard, love only destroyed you. Is that what she wanted?

* * *

><p>Exhausted steps led her through the door of her apartment, leaning her weight on the table next to the door; Elena bent down and pulled off her heels, allowing a sigh of relief to escape as the chilled air soothed the ache of her feet. It wasn't long before Franks' heavy footing approached the doorjamb and stopped, to what she assumed was his usual lean against it.<p>

"How long are we going to keep this fake engagement up?" Elena huffed impatiently, tossing her clutch-bag haphazardly onto the leather sofa located on the left side of the apartment. "You think people will notice there's been no marriage after five years?" She added sarcastically, making sure to turn and shoot a condescending look at the man who irritated her to no end.

"Don't get smart." He told her dryly.

"Right, just do as I'm told, smile and look pretty, don't say anything out of turn, don't tuck my hair behind my ears, and don't wear a dress above my knees," she angrily listed off all the things he had ordered her to run by for four years.

"You are completely ungrateful, girl." Frank closed the space between them; quickly slamming the door shut in the process and leaned over her. It had become automatic for fear to overwhelm her; she knew what he was capable of. She knew the sharp sting of his slap to her face too many times to count. "I'm going home; don't bother coming into the office tomorrow, take the day off to sort out that attitude." He threatened.

She wasn't alarmed by his threats, he gave them too often.

He swung open the door aggressively, and the last she saw was his back before the door eased softly into place with a soft click of the lock.

She had wanted to scream, she had wanted to demand what she should be grateful for, but her common sense kept her silent. She couldn't afford to make lame excuses to why she had a marked face; she was running out of them.

She wanted to cry for how empty she felt, but that was the thing about feeling empty, all your body's energy is used up in desperately trying to not feel empty that it doesn't seem to have any leftover to express that type of emotion. Anger is easy. But crying until you can't catch a single breath? That takes energy, the type of energy she didn't have.

* * *

><p>"Damon?" The voice of his younger brother, and colleague at Miller &amp; Anderson caused him to look up from the scattered papers amongst his large desk. "Frank wants to see you." Stefan informed.<p>

"Great." Damon muttered bitterly, checked his Rolex watch to find it was 10:17, and rose from the warm contact of his leather office chair.

"Now, now, dear, try to keep your temper under check, won't you?" Stefan remarked playfully, standing to one side of the doorjamb to let his brother past.

"I'll try my best, darling." Damon shot a glare and slipped out of his office, coming to a direct stop at the elevators located on the opposite side of the hall. Pushing in the up button on the wall between the two elevators, he took a deep breath.

It was safe to say he wasn't a fan of Frank Miller, not only did he hate the type of man he was; womanizing and arrogant, he hated the life he so effortlessly possessed. He had a fiancée that was so incredibly beautiful it was almost painful to look at her, yet he slept with every woman in the building, and even more throughout the city. The worst part being, she stayed with him.

The gold elevators door opened and Damon swiftly stepped passed the threshold, pushed the button marked 43 and rotated on the spot to watch them close again.

He ran a hand up his face and through his tousled jet black hair. He was 28 years old, had more money than he would ever know what to do with, and women fawning over him almost every day. He had the life he always wanted, and it had been enough, until he received a job offer from Miller & Anderson; one of the best businesses in New York. He felt like everything was falling into place, great job, and great apartment. Then he saw **her**.

It had been his first 'business-party' of any sort, and after two hours of interacting with almost every guest in the large hall, he had turned to curiously scan the groups of A-list New Yorkers and general business representatives, when the work of fate seemed to part the crowd in order for their eyes to meet. He remembered how his mouth fell agape in response to her glorious beauty.

He had seen beautiful women, and had the pleasure of sexually experiencing them, but not one of them had ever made him feel like a fumbling idiot. All he seemed able to do was stand there, and blink, his brain failing to process such a stun. He did know one thing, however; he had to have her.

It had been four months, 16 days and 11 hours since the moment he first set eyes on her, and his feelings remained the same, with an additional intensity. She was as beautiful inside as she was outside, and that made her even more desirable.

Realisation that he had remained on his journey to Frank's office on the top floor of the building only struck when stood outside the office door made entirely of glass, matched to the glass partitions of the rest of the office, currently not revealing the inside due to the pulled shut blinds. There was only one reason those blinds would be closed; Frank doesn't want the rest of the floor to see his X-rated activities within.

Damon quivered reflexively to the images crossing his mind, unsure whether he wanted it to be Elena in there with him or not, and turned away from his approach to the office, making a pit stop at Frank's PA's desk. On normal circumstances, he would find Elena sat behind the desk, tapping quietly away at the computer, a pencil balancing behind her ear and complete focus in her eyes.

"Hey, Andie," he flashed his usual crooked smile, only continuing when he knew he had her undivided attention; which never took long. "Could you tell Frank I came by to see him, but he was currently… detained?" He let the words fall from his tongue like velvet and stroke her into a heated frenzy. He always had known how to charm women; it came as naturally as breathing.

"Of course, Mr Salvatore" Andie purred in return, leaning on her folded arms to purposely push her breasts out.

With that, he gave her a subtle wink and continued on the return to his office on the floor below. At least he didn't have to see Frank. The glass was half full after all, even if the empty half was the possibility of Elena having sex with Frank on his huge wooden desk. No, the glass wasn't half full.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: **_So I just wanted to thank all you guys who reviewed, it means sooo much to me. And I'd been worrying about if certain things hadnt been made clear about the story, so here goes. _

_Basically, Frank did something for Elena four years ago that obviously made her indebted to him. I'm purposely leaving out what it is for now, but keep reading and you'll find out :D_

_And, I didnt know if people already knew that nothing has happened between Damon and Elena, not yet anyway. I really wanted to go on the journey with them._

_So that's it. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And please review! xxxx_

* * *

><p>2<p>

_"Friendship, said Christopher Robin, is a very comforting thing to have."  
>-A.A. Milne<em>

10:45 am. Elena huffed loudly and rolled away from the red digits of the bedside clock, burrowing into the cold, un-slept side of the bed and pulled her knees up close to her chest. Though it was extremely tempting to remain hidden under the warm covers all day, Caroline was expecting her for lunch in approximately an hour, which meant she had to drag herself out of bed and shower.

Tossing the covers from her body, her skin made direct contact with the cold chill sweeping through the apartment since she was attired in only her black lace underwear set recently purchased by Frank and his endless sum of money.

She scanned the apartment, still holding the firm belief that she had four years ago when Frank moved her in; it was more suited to a family than just one person. It was completely ridiculous then, and it still was. She sounded ungrateful, but that wasn't the case, she just couldn't tolerate having or doing things for the sake of it.

Padding across the apartment and into the unnecessary spacious bathroom, the sensory lights flashed once, twice, three times before remaining tranquil and producing a wince followed by a breathy groan at the intrusion on her groggy eyes. It wasn't long before her throat produced another groan at the sight of her reflection in the large mirror that hung over the sink. She let out a chuckle bitterly thinking about what Frank would have to say about her current state. Something along the lines of 'Don't bother sleeping if that's what you wake up looking like'. Always the charmer. She was 24 years old, for god's sake, how could this be the only man she would ever be engaged to? Not that it was even a real engagement; this massive rock on her finger meant nothing.

She swiftly discarded of her undergarments and stepped onto the white ceramic floor of the walk-in shower, turning the hot on full. As soon as the warm blast of water made contact, her body relaxed. Since she had to be at Lloyd's in 50 minutes, she decided this shower should be a quick one. After ten minutes of allowing a stream of water to trail the length of her body once washing her skin with raspberry scented shower gel and cleaning her long dark chocolate brown hair with her favourite strawberry shampoo, she stepped out of the shower smelling of fresh fruit and tightly wrapped the fluffy white towel around her small frame.

It was exactly 11:47am and the apartment door produced a light slam in Elena's hurried exit. She should never, under any circumstances, be late; Frank taught her that. Ascending the stairs in record time, she clung to the strap of her red satchel bag slung onto her shoulder and breathed a quick 'good morning' to her landlady, Mrs Coughlin while breezing out the door of her building. When encountered with the slight chill of the wind, Elena was glad she had decided on wearing her tight black leggings, knee-high black boots, a nude embellished crop top and her favourite black leather jacket over the top.

She also felt fortunate that Lloyd's was only two blocks away; therefore she would arrive, more or less, on time. Not that Caroline would even mind. Knowing her, which she did, very well, she was flirting with the barman, focusing on the sole intention of receiving free midday cocktails. Elena couldn't stop her mouth lifting into a smile, overcome with gratitude for a friend who, without effort, made her forget about her somewhat hollow existence, even if it was only for a few hours.

She wandered through the dark wood double doors of Lloyds, met with the usual crowd of people that spent their lunch breaks there, drinking, eating; depended on what type of mood they were in. Caroline was at the bar, as expected. The long golden-blonde tresses of her hair free-flowing in its traditional curls down her back as she leant against the bar, her arms folded on its surface and her backside jutted out for any males, or females, viewing pleasure.

Elena slid over to the girl she would normally label her best friend, but, of course, best friends told each other everything. She didn't share anything, not about her past anyway, and certainly not about her 'arrangement' with Frank. Everyone just assumed she had a thing for older men, way older men.

Elena took her place next to Caroline and leaned in close to her ear. "How much do you charge for the whole night?"

"Way more than you can afford." Caroline countered, the teasing smile betraying her quick perception of Elena's arrival although she hadn't turned her head to discover. "You're late." She added, rotating her whole body and allowing her weight to fall upon the propped elbow that remained on the bar, greeting Elena with a playful smile and a raised eyebrow, which Elena quickly returned.

"No, I'm not."

"No, you're not." Caroline agreed. "You're just in time for midday cocktails." Elena traced the devilish smile overrun her friends' features and the swift motion of her hand to the barman for his attention.

"What can I get for my two favourite customers?" Matt asked smoothly, slinging a towel onto his shoulder. It wasn't news that Matt had a thing for Caroline; he had since they started coming here. Not that she blamed him; she wasn't compared to a model for her sarcastic wit after all.

"We will have…" Caroline tapped her chin with a manicured nail, carefully contemplating their choices. "Two sex on the beach cocktails, please."

"Caroline-

Caroline lifted a hand to stop Elena's objection going any further. "Actually, make that four, save us the second trip."

"Sure thing" Matt happily complied, pushing back from his lean against the bar and getting to work on their cocktails. Elena shot a glare at her friend.

"What?" Caroline asked innocently. "Oh, come on, we haven't drunk in the day for months."

Caroline was right. They hadn't drunk alcohol in the day for longer than she could recall. Reason number one being; she barely got a weekday off from being Franks' slave at the office, or 'Personal Assistant' in business terminology. And of course, reason number two; Frank Miller would never approve of _his_ fiancée drinking at midday.

"Yeah, because of what happened the last time we did." Elena reminded her.

"Ah yes, Frank. How is the prison warden?" Caroline chided, showing no apparent interest in how he was, only her obvious resentment towards the situation. When Elena made no reply, instead hanging her head and tracing the floor, Caroline groaned. "God, I'm sorry. I know, he's your fiancé and I should respect that."

"It's okay." Elena murmured, lifting her head but keeping her eyes cast downwards. It was ironic how much Caroline had hit the nail on the head by calling him a 'prison warden'. In all honesty, she mirrored Caroline's bitter feelings towards Frank, but of course, no one could know that. Their relationship had to be believable; she couldn't have people asking questions that she didn't have answers for. _'Why do you stay with him if you're not in love?' 'What does he get out of it? What do you get out of it?'_

"Okay, no more talk about Frank or any men in general. Would you please just have a drink with me?"

Caroline pleaded; her blue eyes alight with hope when Elena finally returned her focus to their conversation. Caroline would never admit it, but Elena could tell that she missed her, because she missed her just as much. Therefore she couldn't find it in her to refuse her friend one day of catching up.

"Two cocktails" Elena warned with a point of her index finger at Caroline before relaxing into a mirrored stance, leaning against the bars structure, and propping herself onto one elbow. Caroline jumped a small distance off the floor and clapped her hands excitedly, only to be stilled by Elena's light grasp to her forearm. "But you do realise where we are? Almost every person who works for Frank comes here. If they see me…" Elena trailed off.

"It's a good thing they won't be here for hours then," Caroline raised a mischievous eyebrow before continuing. "And when they do…"

Elena watched her turn and burrow with determination through the light blue bag chosen specifically to match the colour of her eyes. A few moments later, she retrieved her slender hand from the bags depth, along with a dark pair of sunglasses.

"Sunglasses?" Elena asked confused.

"It's a disguise." Caroline told her matter-of-factly, extending her arm to carefully place the sunglasses down on the bar directly in front of Elena.

"Caroline, I don't think sunglasses are going to miraculously hide my identity."

"Do you have a better idea?"

"No, but…"

"So you'll wear them then." Caroline urged and Elena sighed in defeat. With impeccable timing, as always, Matt returned with their first round of cocktails; the little pink umbrellas and the mixture of red and yellow liquid never failing to look ridiculously attractive. Carefully placing the large cocktails on the bar in front of them, Matt shot Caroline a warm smile before turning on his heel and fetching their second round of cocktails. Matt was incredibly attractive, nobody could deny that. With his sandy-blonde hair, clear blue eyes and perfectly defined cheekbones and jaw, he was the very definition of the boy next door. He and Caroline had been outrageously flirting back and forth, and skirting around the idea of dating for a whole year, ever since Matt had first got the job as barman at Lloyds, and it was driving Elena crazy. It was getting to the point where she was contemplating locking them in a room together.

Elena took the straw between her fingers and lowered her mouth to the opening, coaxing the liquid through the small passageway and into her mouth. The tantalizingly sweet taste eliciting a soft moan directly from her throat, she had forgotten how good these tasted.

The part of her that felt anxious whenever the door to the bar swung open weakened effectively as the day went on, unsure whether it was the Dutch courage that took a hold on her senses the more liquid she poured down her throat, or the constant reassurance provided by Caroline's comforting squeezes to her hand whenever she scanned the room nervously. She had sworn to herself, and Caroline she was only having two cocktails, but as darkness blanketed the sky along with the inside of the bar, the heavenly yellow glow of the dimmed lights being the only source of light, she had lost count of how many drinks she had consumed, but she knew one thing for certain; it was far from two cocktails.

* * *

><p>The light echo of Damon's black Italian formal shoes sounded in their collision with the concrete pavement as he made his way directly from work to Lloyds. He last checked his watch when leaving the 43 story high building of Miller &amp; Anderson; it had been 7:42pm. He didn't usually stay so late at the office, the moment the large clock on his office wall struck 6:00pm, he was out of there. However, today, he had been dragging his heels; he couldn't seem to find the effort to do any work. Instead, he spent the day constantly wandering across the hall to his younger brothers' office, annoying him until he finally threw a very large and very heavy paper weight in his direction. Lucky for him, Stefan's aim needed some serious improvement.<p>

When the office finally emptied at 6, he decided on attempting to get at least a small amount of work done, and then catch up with the rest tomorrow.

So now here he was, with quick and determined steps in the direction of his favourite bar, desperate for a glass of bourbon, or ten.

His feet made contact with the wooden floorboards of Lloyds as the double doors swung to a shut behind him. He gracefully slipped off his black suit jacket and slung it onto his shoulder, his fingers hooked under the collar, and swiftly advanced towards the bar.

"Bourbon, Matt. Make it a double." Damon requested over the loud ripple of music while placing his jacket on the back of the steel bar stool, and hoisting himself onto its cold surface. Taking his time to scan the rest of the bar, he chuckled softly at the drunken mass of people. As Matt returned with a tumbler of a generous amount of yellow liquid, that would tonight, ease his tensions, he couldn't help but wander across thoughts of Elena. He didn't spend his days and nights pining over her of course, but he would have these moments of wondering or imagining about her. He could just imagine how sweet she would taste, how she would breathlessly moan his name, how he could make her forget about Frank, because let's face it, Frank was getting on. The only reason he got so many women was because of his money and status. Other than that, he was a soulless dick in a human shell.

That's what was so frustrating; it was only imagination. He could only _fantasise _about what it would be like to actually be with her, feel the warmth of her skin against his, the taste of her lips as they moved with his, and it was torture.

Shaking his head lightly as if to shake the thoughts of her from his mind; he picked up the fresh tumbler of bourbon until the glass made contact with his lips and poured the entire contents down his welcoming throat in one go. He gave out a small hiss and returned the base of the glass to the surface of the bar with a soft bang, hastily motioning to Matt for another when he earned his attention.

Then, as if fate had stepped in once more, his gaze locked onto a thick mass of chocolate brown curls and his heart naturally increased its pace.

Straining to discover the identity of the woman who only seconds ago surfaced from the crowd and arrived at the bar, his initial reaction was to hope it was her, but that said feeling was quickly rebuffed by the predicted torture he would have to endure if it was her.

He watched Matt shoot a pleasant smile to the brown-haired girl while coming to a stop directly in front of her on the other side of the bar, causing her head to turn and reveal the side of her face. It was her, he knew it was. Even with the dark sunglasses masking the beauty of her chocolate brown doe eyes, he had no doubt it was her. The fullness of her lips and the perfection of her body as it leaned casually against the bar, he would recognise anywhere.

Without a second thought, he slid off the stool, retrieved his suit jacket from its resting place on the back of the stool and allowed his steps to lead him directly to her.

"Elena?" he watched her gracefully whirl around to meet him, a wide smile erupting from her lips.

"Sshh, this is my disguise!" she whispered loudly,

"It's not very effective." Damon pointed out with a smirk.

He watched her bottom lip jut out into an adorable pout and he could barely resist the urge to lean down, take it captive between his teeth and nibble it off. _Hold it together, Salvatore. She's not yours, remember?_

Swiftly composing him-self as she returned her focus to the bar where Matt had served her with what Damon only assumed to be two shots of tequila. He heard her give a sweet 'thanks' to Matt before turning back around on the spot, this time two shot glasses between each of her slender fingers and the same smile on her lips that made him involuntarily return it.

"Hard day at the office?" she asked him, slipping around his stilled frame while the question hinted for him to follow her lead, therefore that's what he did.

"You could say that." he replied once falling into step beside her. "How come you weren't there?"

He marked the few moments she took then as if coming out blank with an explanation, she brought the small shot glass to her full lips and downed its contents, like she was under the impression it would provide her with an answer she could give him.

"Day off." Elena told him simply, from what he could see of her features, twisted into what he assumed was a wince in response to the slow burn tequila hashed out on every one of its victims.

"Mm-hmm." He wasn't the slightest bit convinced that was the reason, and she knew it. Elena stopped in her tracks, triggering his feet to do the same. She gave him an amused smile and downed the remaining shot in her hand before removing the dark sunglasses from her face, showing the same amusement in her eyes, and set both items down on the table nearest to them. "Much better," He leaned in, the exact slow and sensual movement as it had been the night before and letting the mixed sweet and spiced essence of his breath fan over her face.

"Damon…"

And just like the night before, she wavered. "You can't keep doing this." She told him, though her eyes told a different story, they almost looked pained.

"Doing what?"

"That." She breathed. "That thing with your eyes, and leaning in so close I can barely think straight. I'm engaged." And there it was. The two words that held the effect of a cold bucket of water over this charged moment between them. Though disappointment overwhelmed him, he couldn't help but revel in her admittance that he had an effect on her. He took a step back, and allowed his crooked smile to make an appearance.

"Okay, I'll stop." he agreed.

"You will?" she asked him, her tone and the slight raise of her eyebrow implying that she doubted he would indeed stop with the flirting.

"I'll try my best." he returned, mischief leaking into his voice. He couldn't seem to _not _flirt with her, his brain, his body, knew what it wanted.

A chuckle escaped his throat as she rolled her eyes. "Well, I should get home. I'll see you at the office tomorrow?" Elena queried hopefully.

"You will." he assured her smoothly, watching her turn and gracefully weave back through the crowd and towards the exit of Lloyds.

* * *

><p>Elena moseyed through the door of her apartment, tossing her keys to a land on the side table and dropping her bag to the floor with a loud clank. She continued further in through the black veil covering the entire apartment, finding no need for a light to guide her since she knew the placement of every piece of furniture like the back of her hand.<p>

"Where have you been?" A voice breaking the dead silence of the apartment and the lamp located in the sitting area flicking on made Elena yelp loudly and follow the ripple of light and sound to their puppet master; Frank. "Where have you been, Elena?" he asked again flatly from his leisured sitting position upon her leather sofa.

"I was out." she practically stumbled over her words. She hated this, she hated having to answer to someone, most of all; she hated feeling weak.

She watched with caution as he stood from the sofa and approached her with an unreadable expression, it was like stone. Before she could say or think anything further, her head had snapped to the side and a gasp rushed from her mouth due to the sharp impact of his hand to her face. He had hit her. She thought that by now, her body, or even emotions would hold no startled reaction to his heavy slaps to her face, but still the gasps came.

Reflexively raising a hand to her face, experiencing the warm shock of the flesh blanketing her prominent cheekbone, she turned back to discover the horrific twist of anger in his face. "Let's try that again. You were out, with a man…" Frank seethed, raising his thick dark eyebrows in expectance for her to finish.

"I was-

"If the next words out of your mouth aren't; 'I was out all day, drinking, throwing myself at men until one of them finally took me home to fuck me,' this is going to get a lot more painful." he leaned over her, leaving her no choice but to slightly bend over backwards.

"I didn't-

SLAP. Her head veered harshly to the side once more and the sting to her cheek intensified, all his rage betrayed through the hits to her face. No gasp spilled from her mouth this time surprisingly, she just slowly returned her head to its rightful place and stood there, knowing better than trying to insist she hadn't been with a man, or even sleeping with a man. Frank already had it set in stone in his head that she had been, no words on her part would change that.

"Nobody makes a fool out of me." he spat out. "Especially not you; I made you. All this," he gestured to her with his eyes and hands "I created. I can just as easily destroy it."

Elena tried to turn her gaze away from the piercing anger in his face, unsure why she had turned back to it in the first place, when he interjected, catching her jaw in a death grip between his fingers, locking her focus in place. "You want to pray no-one saw you tonight." he warned quietly.

Main instinct screamed at her to struggle against the pain he was inflicting on the lines of her jaw, to beg him to stop, but she knew he would relish in her momentary weakness, and that's something she would never allow to happen. Nor could she stand by and let him destroy her. She may feel just as empty as she had four years ago, but at least she had a home, clothes, a job. She didn't know if she could give all that up.

Lost in a haze, she barely registered Frank's exit from her apartment, and she still didn't cry. The first few times he hit her, she couldn't stop the tears, now she wondered why they never came.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Miss Gilbert." Gary, the security guard at the building entrance of Miller &amp; Anderson greeted her as pleasantly as ever.<p>

"Good morning," Elena returned with a kind smile, not stopping in her brisk movements towards the elevator on the other side of the foyer. Riding it up to the 43rd floor, she made constant checks in her compact mirror of her face, the same sigh of relief slipping past her glossed lips as two hours ago when she first got up. At least there was no mark, this time.

The second her nude pumps crossed onto the beige carpet of the 43rd floor, she was bombarded with the presence of Frank's other PA, Andie Starr.

"We're going to Paris!" Andie squealed over-excitedly, her short blonde hair bouncing with the rest of her slim body.

"I'm sorry, what?" Elena asked dumbfounded. Just as Andie opened her mouth to explain, Damon appeared with a grin plastering his features and his blue eyes aglow.

"We're all going to Paris, yay!" he threw his hands up in mock-exclamation, the contract of his muscles under the tight black shirt immediately grabbing her attention.

_Oh, crap._


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: **So here's chapter 3! Sorry I took so long, I was finding it hard to be inspired :) Thank you for the reviews again and all the favouriting and everything, it really means a lot to me. So, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! xxxxxx

* * *

><p>3<p>

"_Paris is always a good idea" – Audrey Hepburn_

"We're going to Paris…" Elena repeated the words slowly, not really believing them.

"Yes! Isn't it amazing?" Andie exclaimed.

"Isn't it just?" Damon added sarcastically, or was it suggestively? She couldn't tell over her minds shock at the information. She couldn't go to Paris, not with Frank, and certainly not with Damon.

Ignoring Damon's unnecessary comment, Elena turned back to her utterly annoying colleague that she had the misfortune of spending every workday with.

"Why? Why are we going to Paris?" she demanded.

"For business, of course" Damon chirped in once again. What was he, some sort of annoying bird? "Frank has to go, work his magic on the branch in Paris, apparently the man he put in charge is a complete idiot. You have to go because you're his PA, along with Andie here," he slung an arm around Andie's shoulders, giving a small squeeze to her one shoulder with his masculine hand before just as quickly returning it to his side. "And I," he twisted his wrist until his inclined finger met his chest. "am the Chief Executive Officer."

Elena couldn't resist rolling her eyes. It intrigued and frustrated her how he could switch from the sweet and caring Damon she knew he could be, to the cocky and annoying Damon so effortlessly. One day, they were the best of friends, figuratively speaking of course, and the next he was purposely attempting to wind her up.

Her scowl met his smirk as he slipped around her, his body manoeuvring around hers more closely than necessary, and hers instantly reacting. She wanted to stamp her foot like a petulant child at her own inability to control her body's reaction to his, the weak tremble that emerged when his skin almost touched hers or the clench of her heart when he looked at her _like that._

As if their eyes were magnets, unable to refuse the pull towards the other, they remained, even as he pushed the down button to call the elevator, even as the elevator arrived and the gold doors slid open to welcome him inside. Only did they break apart when he crossed the threshold of the elevator, disappearing from sight.

_What was she doing?_ He shouldn't be looking at her like that, but she most importantly, shouldn't be returning that kind of look.

Sighing loudly, Elena spun around and continued down the hall to her desk. How was she going to sustain a trip to Paris with him? Well, she would soon find out, because after an entire morning of listening to Andie tattle on about how amazing Paris would be, she finally let her in on the vital piece of information that they would be leaving for Paris in two days, for an entire week.

A whole week of Frank, Damon and Andie… this would not end well. She just knew it.

* * *

><p>With one final drag of the zip into place, and a quick hoist of the strap onto her shoulder, allowing the black satchel bag to hang at her hip, Elena was ready to go. The last two days had been a complete blur, with working all day at the office and then packing at night, she hadn't had time to worry about the dreaded week in Paris. She couldn't help but find it ironic, she had spent her entire teenage years wishing and dreaming of someday going to Paris, and now here she was, clumsily pulling a large designer suitcase out of her apartment, lugging its heavy contents down the stairs and out through the front of her building, resenting every part of it. Once setting down the deep red suitcase that Frank had practically tossed at her two days ago, telling her to pack and be ready by 9:00am sharp today, Elena turned back to her landlady, Mrs Coughlin who stood on the doorstep of the apartment building.<p>

"Are you sure you don't need any help dear?" Mrs Coughlin asked her. She always seemed to forget to ask her first name. 'I can get one of the boys to help, they won't mind.'

"No, that's okay." Elena assured breathlessly, catching a glimpse of the black limo Frank had sent for her approaching. It swung in and came to a stop beside the pavement she currently stood tranquil upon, the reflection of her tense frame jumping out at her from the sleek black shine. Leaving the suitcase unattended, she turned back to Mrs Coughlin and took the old lady in a warm and quick embrace. "I'll see you in a week." She shouted over her shoulder while rushing back across the pavement to the limousine, the suitcase now assumingly in the boot.

The drive to the airport was silent-filled. In a way, she glad to have the time to herself, to evaluate, to prepare, while she scorned her unoccupied mind for drifting recklessly to thoughts and images of Damon every now and then. Those ocean blue eyes, those lips, that crooked and annoyingly delicious smile, that body she hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing.

_Was she drooling? _Raising her fingers to dab at her face and discovering nothing there, she scoffed at her behaviour. She was being completely idiotic; daydreaming of him like some horny school girl.

Catapulting from her thoughts was the limousine coming to a stop, followed by the scuffle of the driver exiting the vehicle and allowing entrance to the light inside the dark limousine with a swift opening of the door. Elena smiled gratefully and slid from the black leather seat, planting the soles of her heeled tan boots on the concrete pavement outside the airport where she would be boarding a plane to Paris in exactly three hours' time. If there was a god, she wouldn't be seated next to any of them, each for entirely different reasons.

She quickly thanked the one of many limousine drivers Frank advised against her getting to know, in other words; not to bother with such 'lowly beings' because 'there's a reason they're drivers and not being driven'. Not that she listened to any of it, she knew every driver by their first names, their relationship status, if they had children, or even grand-children.

Kirk, the current limousine driver who was handing her off on a flight to hell, was 49 years old, married for 30 years with one son who gave him two grandchildren. Kirk politely set her suitcase down on the pavement and Elena provided him with a quick kiss to the cheek before taking a hold of the suitcase handle along with securing the strap of her satchel bag upon her shoulder and sauntered through the automatic double doors of the airport.

Her heels clattered against the laminate floor as she advanced through the small crowds towards the check-in desk.

"Someone's eager." A smooth chime of a voice stopped her quick footing and she turned to meet the glorious face she was expecting.

"Eager to get this week over with." Elena returned.

"Oh, don't be like that." Damon feigned his feelings being hurt, and the dangerous glint in his blue eyes told her that his attempts at riling her temper weren't ending any time soon.

Elena turned her gaze from Damon to her primary goal; the check-in desk.

"How is Frank?"Even his name made her nauseous, what kind of name was Frank anyway?

"How would I know?" she asked a little too bitterly.

"Because you're engaged," Damon said as if stating the obvious. She really sucked at acting as if she were in love with Frank, probably because she loathed him too much.

"We don't live in each other's pockets."

"Do I sense a lovers tiff?" he asked amused.

Elena traced the ground and muttered low enough that he wouldn't hear. "You have to be lovers to have a tiff."

"What?"

"Nothing." she said clearly, brushing her curls from her face with her hand and coming to a stop directly in front of the check-in desk where a young blonde haired girl sat, a pleasant smile and tons of makeup plastered on her face.

Elena handed both her passport and plane ticket across the desk where the young girl took it willingly, and looked from her, to Damon and back again. Before she could make an assumption, her hair was being tucked behind her ear and hot breath was blanketing the skin there.

"She thinks we're together." The feel and sound of his low whisper sent shivers straight to her core and the strength of an entire army went to her grip on the handle of her suitcase in order to keep her body steady. Her brain has seemingly fallen out of the back of her skull and her tongue was nowhere to be found.

She took a deep breath before slowly turning her head, causing their noses to graze in the process.

"It's a good thing we're not then." Elena countered softly, suddenly realising their faces were entirely too close for the public eye, but she couldn't seem to step away.

"That's debatable."

Her eyes drifted downwards to the sudden appearance of his crooked smile and just as quickly as they landed on the perfect structure of his lips, they averted and she finally took a small step back, shifting her suitcase onto the conveyer belt with very little struggle. Even with her back turned she could feel his eyes on her, and the moment she turned her prediction was proven correct.

Giving a low chuckle and digging his passport and plane ticket from the black pants that clung to ever perfect line of his lower half, Damon turned towards the girl behind the desk, casually leaning across the surface and presenting both relevant documents along with a seductive smile she thought was only for her benefit. _Was she jealous? _No, of course she wasn't jealous. He was much too infuriating.

Elena continued to eye his flirtatious actions, the purpose graze of his fingers against hers as she handed his passport back and the suggestive dance of his eyebrows. _Oh, she was definitely jealous._

His muscles contracted sensually under the tight navy dress shirt as he lifted his own black suitcase onto the conveyer belt, his smile flashed towards the girl behind the desk once more and he turned back to Elena, awaiting her company by his side through the rest of the airport.

Snapping out of her daydream and quickly complying, she fell into step beside him naturally, a small smile playing on both their lips. Even through the flirting and the annoying, they were still friends, well, sort of.

"You are such a flirt." Elena commented amused as they headed for the stairs that led to the next floor.

"Yes, I am." Damon agreed shamelessly.

"Why?"

"It strokes my ego." he told her simply, earning an eye roll. "Besides, I'm not engaged; I need reassurance that I'm attractive."

"Oh please. You know how attractive you are, everyone does."

"Even you?"

She was like a deer caught in headlights. What was she supposed to do? Deny the truth? Lie? She was attracted to him, very much, she knew that. But did he need to know that?

"I'm engaged, Damon." she repeated the three words she seemed to use over and over again, but never have any strength behind them, because they had none. He suddenly brought her to a stop with a hand to her upper-arm, causing her to look him in the eyes and swallow thickly at the wondrous sight.

"Doesn't mean you can't find me attractive," he stated. "Doesn't mean I don't make your breath catch, or your heart beat quicken."

He reached out a traced the length of her collarbone with the soft pad of his fingers.

After a few long seconds that seemed like an eternity of working on controlling her body in its threat to tremble for the second time in its response to him, she finally swallowed the lump in her throat and opened her mouth to speak. "You said you would stop this."

"I said I would try my best." he corrected, never lifting his eyes from their burning trace of her ivory skin upon her chest.

Abruptly, to her relief and dismay, he pulled his hand away and returned it to hang by his side.

"You're not even trying." Elena breathed.

"Trust me; I am trying, _ridiculously_ hard." With that, he turned on his heel and ascended the stairs that led towards the departure lounge.

Taking a large sigh and relaxing from her tight hold on her own body, Elena followed after him, unable to resist her eyes magnetism to his perfectly toned backside.

Two whole hours of 'pretending' to read the same magazine from cover to cover, five times, went torturously slow. Every now and then, Elena would steal a quick glance at Damon who was sat on the seat next to her, typically checking out every woman who passed. Even if Frank was out of the picture, oh how she wished he was, this was exactly the reason she would never give in to Damon Salvatore. He enjoyed the entire buffet of women to never settle for one meal, or woman.

Why she hadn't deserted him and sat at the other end of the departure lounge, she still couldn't understand, even now, as she sat in the window seat and he conveniently had been placed a seat away. He was purposely torturing her, she just knew it. At least she could be thankful for the barrier in the shape of a human man that currently sat between them.

"Excuse me?" she heard his voice ring out from a seat away. "Do you think you could switch seats with me? My fiancée is more than eager to have me sit next to her."

Her mouth fell agape in outrage before cutting in. "No, I really don't, and he is _not_ my fiancé." she leaned forward and shot a deathly glare at Damon before slumping back into the confines of the plane seat.

"Oh, baby, don't be angry." Damon cooed playfully, yet still earning a set of narrowed eyes from Elena, even as he turned to the man between them and whispered; "We had a fight."

Before she could muster any kind of response or further objection, the man nodded in complete understanding and rose from his seat, allowing Damon to take it.

"Are you purposely trying to make me miserable?" she did her best to whisper in exclaim.

"Quite the contrary," he returned coolly.

"What?" she snapped.

"You're already miserable." he told her matter-of-factly.

He had hit the nail on the head, and she was sent into a state of shock. She was miserable, she knew that, but hearing it come from someone else oddly made it a new realisation. People could tell that she wasn't happy, more specifically, that she wasn't happy with Frank. The thought that anyone noticed never crossed her mind; that anyone actually cared enough to notice. Caroline cared, she didn't exactly agree with her choice to be with Frank but she tried her best to respect it. The difference with Damon's way of caring was he tried to make her realise she had other options, ways she could be happy, but she couldn't. She didn't have any other choice or option, she would be stuck with a man who would never love her, never respect her, only as the vase that he moulded into shape.

Shortly following her surprise was gratitude, although she felt ashamed of her failed act at being happy, Damon had been going out of his way to make her feel something, anything, even if it was annoyance.

"Thank you." Elena said softly, averting her eyes from his to gaze out the small plane window.

"For what?"

"Being a good friend."

"You know, there are _a lot _more ways I could be a good friend." The quick dance of his eyebrows he used to emphasize 'a lot' created a whole flash of images to what he meant, and were only intensified when he leaned in to her for the second time today, his breath masking her face.

"Damon." she breathed, forcing it to sound as a warning.

"Right, no more flirting," he reminded himself and slowly retreated.

* * *

><p>'<em>No more flirting'. <em>Had he seriously promised a woman he wouldn't flirt with her? Not flirting with women in general would be a difficult task, but not flirting with Elena? Impossible.

Damon blew out a large breath and tossed the key-card that granted him access into his hotel room in the Ritz onto the large round table located only a few feet from the door. He had officially been in Paris for two hours, not that he had seen any of it, except through the black tinted limousine window, but that doesn't count in a place like Paris. If you haven't seen it first-hand, it barely counts.

He peered around the room, landing on the generous minibar in the corner and promptly moved towards his own personal oasis in the shape of a dark wooden cupboard filled with a sea of drink. Retrieving a glass tumbler, Damon lowered himself into a crouch before the large cabinet and pulled open both doors to reveal the hidden treasure; scotch and bourbon. Excitement flashed over his features as he pulled his drink of choice from the cabinets' depth and temporarily placed the tumbler to one side. He twisted open the bottle top, releasing the strong spice of bourbon within and brought it to his lips for a taster, prior to twisting the bottle in his grasp until it met the tumblers edge with a small clink and its contents relocated within the small space and Damon downed it in one. It was a good thing they didn't have a meeting tomorrow, because he was definitely planning on taking a swan dive into the deep pool of intoxication for the remainder of the day.

A small knock interrupted pouring of his second drink and forced him to temporarily abandon his plans, cross the hotel room and pull open the door.

"Ah. Andie," he leaned nonchalantly against the opened door. "What can I do for you?" Always the suggestive tone, after all, Andie was attractive and he needed a release, an extreme one after six whole hours of being so close to Elena he wanted to explode from the constant overpowering urges to take her right there in the plane aisle.

"I'm bored out of my mind," Andie whined, raising a hand to her short blonde hair and twirling it between her fingers. "You want to go get a drink?"

Any other day before today, he probably would have turned the offer down, but after countless of occasions of being turned down by Elena over the past few days; he was nursing a wounded ego. What else had he expected? Her to willingly agree to sleep with him even if she's promised to another man, who so happened to be his boss? That was exactly what he expected, that's what worried him.

"You know what? I really do." he turned back into the room, grabbed the key-card from the table he had only minutes ago thrown it upon, and slipped from the room with a soft click of the door shutting and locking automatically.

They wandered down to the ground floor of the hotel, side by side, and headed straight for the bar.

"Shots?" Andie suggested the moment their arms made contact with the slightly chilled bar surface.

"My kind of girl." Damon complimented along with an impressed smile then turned to gesture for the extremely smartly dressed barman's attention.

* * *

><p>Countless shots of tequila and two glasses of bourbon later, Damon was drunk, Andie was definitely drunk, and <em>definitely<em> willing.

The exact moment he landed on a decision he would probably regret in the morning, or maybe straight after, still he couldn't seem to care, therefore he leaned in close to Andie, ready to make the offer to walk her to her room, the room he knew for a fact she wouldn't let walk away from, was the same moment he noticed a new arrival into the bar; Frank, shortly followed by Elena. Through drunken, hooded eyes he watched her, holding no ability to look away as she moved across the dim-lit room, her strapless black slip dress emphasizing every curve and line of her body the same as it had all day long. His gaze finally found her face, the same sad expression painted there. She always looked so sad, so lifeless whenever she was with Frank, like he sucked the life from her, and Damon hated it. It took him a while after he met her to realize he just wanted her to be happy, and it took him even longer to realize that he was the one who wanted to make her happy. He watched her take the seat opposite Frank at the corner table he had chosen, and couldn't quite place the expressions they gave one another; it certainly wasn't love, or affection. It was… cold. It only took a second for recognition to hit him like a freight train. He had never once seen them share any kind of affection when they were together. He had never heard her say she loved him, just constant repeats of 'I'm engaged'. Elena didn't love Frank. All this time, he thought she was unhappy, but still loved him, looking at them now, and over all the moments he saw them together, which wasn't a vast amount, he knew they didn't love each other. So, why were they engaged?

With thoughts turning over in his mind, he barely established Andie's hand running seductively up his thigh and the low whisper she let out which he assumed was an invite to her room since she climbed from the classic bar stool and took his hand between hers, leading him directly out of the bar.

_What was he doing? _He just stumbled onto a huge revelation that could change everything, and he was letting another woman lead him to her room where she would expect him to fuck her senseless? No, that was definitely not right. So why was his footsteps willingly keeping up with hers? Obviously he was thinking with his downstairs brain once again.

Into the spacious elevator he followed her, and when she launched her lips at his, her kisses sloppy and desperate, he didn't push her off, he returned them with forced eager until the elevator came to a stop on their floor and the doors revealed the bright and homely corridor that held the doorways to each of their rooms, including Frank and Elena's.

He really shouldn't do this, he really, really shouldn't. Why shouldn't he exactly? He was single, why should he feel obligated to Elena? He shouldn't.

With that decided; he grabbed Andie around her waist and returned his lips to hers, forcing her backwards down the ivory painted and carpeted corridor as her arms took a firm hold around his neck. Removing his hand from up her crop-top, and using it burrow into the pocket of her extremely tight jeans to finally retrieve the key-card to her room, Damon took a quick glance at the number printed on the laminate card and effectively moved her in that direction. Once inside the room, he kicked the door shut, leaving his morals and common sense on the other side of the door, just for a few hours, he told himself.

* * *

><p>Elena forced graceful movements from her exhausted body, at least until she reached her room, she didn't want fellow guests at the hotel thinking she was sloppy. Well, that was a lie. Frank wouldn't want people thinking she was sloppy, she actually didn't care. The elevator arrived rather quickly to her relief and she stepped inside, watched the doors drift to a shut once she pressed the button for the first floor and the sudden upwards movement of the elevator jolting her slightly off balance didn't even wake her up. She could thank the jet-lag for that.<p>

It took exactly 10 seconds to reach the first floor, literally, she counted. Elena stepped onto the soft ivory carpet, the urgency to get inside her room and under the wonderfully heavy bed covers immediately overran her tired limbs and rushed her in the direction of her room. She slipped the key-card into the slot and the desirable click sounded through the silent corridor, allowing her to push the handle down and be welcomed by the stunning ensemble of the room.

A sudden opening of the door right opposite her own, the door she knew led to Andie's room, made her instinctively whirl around on the spot to find the person she was least expecting, or maybe the person she least hoped would be leaving Andie's room in the middle of the night, half naked. There he was, Damon Salvatore, bare rippling torso, dishevelled hair and pants hung low enough to show the V that led to a part of him she would love to experience for herself. She wanted to say something, anything to break the awkward stare they were both giving, but her mind came up blank, thanks to the stun of seeing his torso unclothed for the first time.

"Uh, hi." he finally said, once dragging the door to a shut behind him.

"Hi." she returned, remaining on the threshold between her room and the corridor where a man who could be mistaken for a Greek god stood, awkwardly running a hand through his midnight hair. Damon Salvatore; feeling awkward, that was something she hadn't seen before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note: **Here's chapter 4 for you lovely people who reviewed and favourited! Once again, thank you so much! So I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review and let me know what you think! xxxxxxx

4

"_I can stay with you always. We can know each other's bodies in every way, night after night. I could love you." – Dead to the World._

Four days had passed, _four days, _since their awkward encounter in the corridor just outside the room, or chamber as they would call it, she currently sat in and Damon had been dodging her in every moment their paths seemed to cross since that horrific moment shared between the ivory walls that ended with him scuttling off to his room. It didn't take a rocket scientist to work out that they were having sex practically every night since, not only did she hear their muffled voices when he arrived at her room before and after, she also received a small insight into how good Damon Salvatore actually was in the bedroom, which by Andie's screams, she could only assume he was more than satisfactory.

She was hurt, and jealous, therefore she was sulking, and she would continue to do so for the remainder of the trip, especially if he was going to avoid her for it.

She had barely heard from Frank either, which was extremely fortunate. Apparently he was busy sorting out things with the business to 'deal' with her, or so he told her earlier on today. She would find it offensive that he referred to her as one of his dealings with, but she knew it was the truth. It's not like they were friends, she wasn't anything to him but an investment which he had to check up on every now and then. She sat cross-legged upon the huge double bed and peered aimlessly around the hotel room. It was hard _not _to appreciate its extreme beauty every single time, because it was just that magnificent. With matching cream bed-side tables where gold lamps stood, their cream shades lit beautifully due to the overthrow of darkness throughout Paris, a small round white table set between the bed and the door where a small collection of white roses sat inside a glass vase, a deep pink velvet chair that matched the bed cover currently crumpled underneath her was placed to the right of the door, while an exact duplicate was carefully slid into the cream dressing table. It was simple, yet charming and classic in its French styling.

She caught sight of her reflection in the huge arched mirror that hung against the brilliant white painted wall over the fireplace directly opposite the bed, her long chocolate hair was gathered messily in a bun atop her head and her makeup was still perfectly intact. Not that it mattered anyway, in an hour or so she would be curled up under the smooth ivory covers, her head sunk into the white pillow as she longed for a deep slumber to possess her.

Desperately searching the room for something, _anything_, to keep her occupied until it was a decent enough time to sulk in bed, instead of out of it, Elena kicked the rose-coloured bed cover from underneath her and off the foot of the bed in annoyance when she found nothing. Of course she found nothing; she was stuck between four white walls when what she _should_ be doing is enjoying the city of Paris. But then again, people say it's the city of love, and love wasn't an option. Still, she climbed from the soft sheets of the bed, grateful that she hadn't decided on changing out of the black skirt that began with a tight band around her ribs and finished at the middle of her thighs with a wonderful floating effect, a loose white crop top that fell off her one shoulder, and suede black ankle boots, with a heel, because of course she 'always had to wear heels'. She would love to see _him _constantly walk around in heels every single day.

Grabbing her black bag from the dressing table, along with the key-card, Elena leaned down to check her appearance prior to releasing her long curls from the confines of the black elastic band and shaking her head until it fell naturally into place down her back and shoulders. She slipped the key-card into the front zip of her bag and exited her room.

She didn't know where she was going but she couldn't stay in that room any longer, as beautiful as it was, she just got caught up thinking about Damon, and how angry she was with him, for avoiding her, for sleeping with Andie. _Did he have no taste at all? _Elena scoffed and folded her arms across her chest while waiting for the elevator.

The moment it arrived she stepped inside and requested it take her to the bottom floor, the exact location of the Ritz Bar. If Frank requested she stay in the hotel, to refrain from making a spectacle him, then that's precisely what she would do.

The elevator came to a stop and she swiftly stepped out, rapidly advancing across the cream decorated lobby with a sensuous sway of her hips, only did she slow her movements when the archway at the bar areas opening came into sight. Her heeled boots made contact with the plush carpet and the room surrounding brought a subtle smile to her lips. She had only had the pleasure of coming in here on one occasion; the same night she bumped into a half-naked Damon. Frank had provided her with a cryptic phone call that woke her from a peaceful sleep, and told her to meet him downstairs in five minutes. She did her best to look presentable, which was difficult to do in a minuscule amount of time as five minutes, since she had been asleep, in her pyjamas, and she then had bed hair. It had turned out she didn't even need to go to such effort because he hadn't needed her for anything, not really. He just wanted her company while he drank at the bar; sometimes she wondered if he was as lonely as she was. And for that, she could feel sorry for him, and relate immensely.

Elena moved deeper into the rich and classic room, all thoughts of Frank leaving her as she appreciated what she couldn't a few nights ago due to tired eyes. With pink velvet chairs that matched the ones in her room, placed around dark wooden tables in three separate parts of the room, a large DJ set on the opposing side to the rectangular bar that provided only the best of drink and six tall dark wood stools with fitted pink velvet cushions in perfect placement at the front of the bar. Unable to resist, she climbed onto the nearest stool and was immediately greeted by the barman, not a speck of dust on his black waistcoat or a mark on the brilliant white shirt beneath that clung to the obvious well sculpted torso he possessed.

"What can I get for the beautiful lady?" his teeth practically twinkled at her, and she almost melted at the sight of him. With a perfectly sculpted face structure, a defined jaw that begged to be traced and lips that wouldn't have to ask to be kissed; he looked like he belonged in a photo shoot rather than behind a bar. Compiling her hormones into check, she managed to open her mouth to deliver the barman her order while he placed a white napkin on the deep pink bar-top in front of her.

"A dry martini, please"

She allowed her jaw to rest in the palm of her hand as her elbow took its place on the bar, along with her bag and shortly followed by a martini glass with the clear contents occupying the funnel shaped glass with an addition of two olives. It took her a minute to release the barman was still directly in front of her on the other side of the bar, eyeing her intently. Then, his brow relaxed into some sort of conclusion.

"You're sad" he stated.

"I'm okay." Elena returned quickly, casting her eyes on the drink between her fingers before lifting it to her lips and tilting the glass by its stem until the liquid made passage into her mouth and down her throat.

"'I'm okay' is always what women say when they're not." The sweet barman chuckled lightly, earning a sudden lift of Elena's eye-line until her brown eyes met his green ones.

"You're right." Elena sighed in defeat. "I am definitely not okay."

"Well, as you can see, I'm not busy at the moment, so how about you tell me your troubles?" he offered.

"Okay, but first you have to tell me your name."

"I'm Alex."

"I'm Elena." She held out her hand for him to shake, instead, like all gentlemen seemed to, he turned her hand once it was within his grasp and brought it to his lips, leaving a kiss that seemed to burn all the way through her body.

"So, _Elena, _why are you sad?"

"I'm engaged to a man I'm not in love with." She told him outright. Honestly, she had surprised herself. She never thought it would have come out that easy, yet it felt like it was bubbling upon the surface and now that it was out, she felt a small release.

After a few seconds, Alex spoke again. "Why do you stay with him then?"

"Ah, the million dollar question," she smiled, not from happiness or joy, but with sadness, pure and unresolved sadness. "Let's just say, there is no way out of this engagement." She regretted to say, but it didn't mean it wasn't the truth.

"You're trapped."

"I am well and truly trapped." Elena concurred and downed the rest of her martini in one go, hoping it would help sustain her desperation for freedom just until she got back to her room. Otherwise, she might just run out the front of the hotel and disappear in the city of Paris, with the hope that he would never find her. There was something else stopping her from running from Frank clutches, which she couldn't seem to put her finger on until this moment, the very thought of never seeing those clear blue eyes, that arrogant and wonderful crooked smile, not being able to hear his silky voice ever again, stopped her. If she ran, she would never see him again, and she didn't think her heart could handle that. Before he came along, she was so ready for it to all be over. Now, she couldn't even think about going through with it. The reminder of her pain and the extremities she had been willing to go through just to be free, made a huge, suffocating lump form in her throat and she tried her best to swallow it back.

She picked up her bag and slipped off the edge of the stool, her heeled boots creating a silent thud against the carpeted floor before turning back to Alex, the barman she had known for 2 minutes and had already given him a peek into her twisted and complicated life.

"Wait, you just told me you're trapped and now you're leaving?" he exclaimed lightly.

"It's enough that at least one other person knows that." Elena assured.

Before he could object, or ask any further questions, she wandered from the richly stunning bar area and returned through the lobby with much slower steps than earlier, called for the elevator with a firm press of the up button and stood back, tracing the lines of her blurred reflection in the gold elevator doors.

Completing the usual procedure, Elena stepped into the empty elevator when it arrived, pressed her floor and watched the doors close to a shut and felt it spring into motion. Again, ten seconds later she was at her floor. Stepping out onto the cream carpet and approaching her door, silently praying she wouldn't run in to Andie, or have a repeat of the other night. She would definitely explode if she saw his naked torso for the second time and not be able to run her hands and tongue all over it. God, she missed sex.

Most of all, she missed Damon.

* * *

><p>"Mr Salvatore?"<p>

"Yeah," Damon gave an automated answer but failed to tear his completely unfocused attention away from the papers scattered upon the board room table. It may seem like he was intently scanning the documents before him to the rest of the men also sat at the mahogany table, but he could assure, he was not.

"You were saying?" The man's second attempt at regaining Damon's attention finally paying off as his blue eyes lifted to meet with the eight other sets. He resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. Why was he even here? He wasn't even on the board of directors, never mind having the responsibility of leading a meeting, that was Frank's job. But of course, Frank had called him and requested he hold the fort because he was 'running late'. Therefore, here he was, trying his best to come up with the nicest and most appropriate way to tell them that the person they had decided on putting in charge here in the Paris branch was a complete idiot who didn't have the first clue about keeping the business in check.

"Okay, let's not beat around the bush here, guys."

Damon watched each one of their faces turn surprised as well as intrigued by his bluntness, he stood from the chair and began slowly trailing around the room.

"We all know things are pretty much a train-wreck here, there's no point in sugar-coating it. The question is; what are you guys going to do about it?" he allowed his index finger to land on every one of them before returning his arm to hang loosely by his side. He didn't even care if they thought he was speaking out of turn, but by their transfixed gazes he assumed not. This was the way he dealt with business; it was the way it should be dealt with. What was the point in dancing around it, when you could just get straight to the point? He wasn't going to waste his or any one of these men's time just because it was appropriate to talk in 'business terminology'.

"Well, Frank-

Damon held a hand up to cut him off almost immediately.

"I'll tell you what you're going to do, you're going to replace him." His short and firm order earned a few soft murmurs around the table until one of them finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Mr Salvatore but we can't just replace him; we put a lot of money into making him ready for this role." The sharp and arrogant tone of the man caused Damon to doubt he was sorry in the slightest. He probably was stepping out of line; after all, he wasn't the chairman, so his opinion didn't really count.

"Yeah, and that was a mistake." Damon instructed. "He shouldn't have been chosen for the job in the first place, the guy can barely find his way out of a paper bag, for Christ's sake."

A case of murmurs broke out in the room once again and Damon couldn't help but allow the frustrated sigh he had been holding in for the majority of the meeting to escape. He turned abruptly on his heel and strolled back to the seat he had previously been sitting in, grabbed his black suit jacket and shrugged it on. "You want my advice? Replace him with someone who actually knows how to run this place."

He really didn't have time to argue a case that he knew could only be solved one way, it wasn't his place to tell them what to do, and Frank probably wouldn't be pleased with his behaviour but he honestly didn't care. With that, he breezed out of the board room and proceeded through the building that was almost identical to the one in New York, even the PA's were good looking.

He wanted to kick himself for letting his mind wander onto the thought of PA's, he should have known the day wouldn't pass without the thought of Elena popping up unwelcomed in his head. Granted, he hadn't seen her for a couple of days. Okay, it was seven, he counted. Ironic wasn't it? Here he was lecturing a bunch of business of men about how avoiding the inescapable was completely useless, yet he was doing exactly that with Elena. It was inevitable that he would have to talk to her, sooner or later, but every time she got within a few feet of him, he ran in the other direction, literally. Well, maybe not run, briskly walked would be closer to the truth. It wasn't that he was ashamed, he felt awkward. He didn't know what to say; 'Sorry you ran into me half-naked leaving your colleagues hotel room the other night'? No, definitely not.

It was another twenty minutes before he arrived back at the hotel, the moment he took a step inside, he felt at ease, he didn't know what it was about this place, but it made him feel almost peaceful. Not just the hotel, but the whole of Paris. If he wasn't cleaning up Frank's business, he would be out, trolling the city for baguettes and sight-seeing.

"Damon," a call of his name interrupted his thoughts and he turned from the elevator to meet the person it derived from; Frank. Coming to a direct stop in front of him, Damon awaited some sort of lecture regarding the meeting. "I heard about the meeting." Bingo.

"Yeah, I'm just short on patience today, I guess." He wasn't going to apologize, because he didn't think his actions needed redeeming, he said what he thought would be best for the company and that was all there was to it.

"I'm impressed."

"Excuse me?" Damon said baffled.

"It was a test." Frank told him while guiding him through the opened elevator doors. "Have I ever been late to a meeting in the whole time you've been at the company?"

"No…" Damon replied, not quite following.

"Damon, I didn't need you on this trip, I brought you because I wanted to see how well you performed in a situation like today."

"Why?" he demanded, barely paying attention to the floor numbers Frank requested by the push of their buttons.

"Well, it's been pointed out to me that I need to get things in order, so if anything did happen to me, or if I decided I had enough of running the company, it would go to you." Frank explained, much to Damon's surprise. Why would he want him to take over the company for him? It didn't add up in the least. As if reading his mind, Frank continued. "I don't have children, and you're the best the company has."

"I don't buy it, Frank." Damon shook his head lightly, turning to face him as they remained within the elevator.

"You don't buy it?" Frank chuckled under his breath as the elevator came to a stop on the first floor, the doors still tightly shut, shielding the outside from what Damon knew was coming as he marked Frank's shift in posture and before he could react, was knocked off balance by Frank's fist to his jaw. "Don't think I haven't seen the way you look at Elena, you want to keep your job and possibly take over my company? You might want to think about that when you're slobbering over her."

"Is that a threat, Frank?" Damon chuckled, slightly tweaking his now aching jaw and stepping out of the elevator the moment the doors opened. He was so tempted to swing a punch in return, but what would that get him? Taking a quick glance at the next highlighted floor, more pieces of the puzzle fell into place; Frank didn't share a room with Elena. What the hell was going on with those two?

"Friendly warning" Frank corrected with a forced smile.

"And if she leaves you?" Damon pointed out, unable to stop a grin overrunning his features in response to the realisation of their separate rooms.

"She never will." Frank returned darkly and disappeared behind the gold blur of the elevator doors drifting into place. Damon let his hand fall from his jaw, while continuing to tweak it back and forth. Frank may be a complete asshole, but he could throw a mean punch. He wondered if it had made a horrible red stain on his jawline while spinning around and being caught completely off-guard by another presence in the hallway, a few feet away.

"Elena," he breathed, suddenly the pain in his jaw was the last thing on his mind.

"Are you okay?" she asked him softly, closing the distance between them and reaching up to touch his jaw, the soft feel of her fingers on his flesh making him burn with desire.

"You saw?" he knew she had, but still, unnecessary questions were a natural habit of human beings.

"Enough." she confirmed.

"I'm sorry." Damon felt every molecule of his skin spring to life at just the trace of her fingers along his jaw, and then it was gone. She pulled her hand back and awkwardly ran it through her hair.

"Why are you sorry?" Elena questioned, quickly tugging her brown locks behind her ear.

"For even saying that you would leave him."

He watched her shift uncomfortably and cast her eyes downwards for a few moments before returning her eyes to his and opening her mouth to speak. 'We should take care of that.'

"You don't have to…" he trailed off, but nevertheless allowed her to take his arm and urge him in the direction of her room.

Damon took one step inside with his black Italian shoe, one intake of breath of her room, and he already felt intoxicated. What was wrong with him? He was acting like an obsessed, love-sick teenager who just got invited into his girlfriend's room for the first time.

_Get it together, Salvatore._ He composed his thoughts into more appropriate ones and quietly shut the door behind them, turning to find her disappearing into the bathroom, to only return a few minutes later with what he assumed was a wet flannel. Elena motioned for him to take a seat upon the king-sized bed and he willingly obliged, keeping his gaze glued on her as she came to a stand in front of him.

"You've been avoiding me." She said sadly, her brown eyes remaining on the soft, easing dab of the cold flannel her hand was providing against his jaw.

"I didn't know what to say." He answered truthfully.

"Anything would have been better than the cold shoulder." she muttered.

He waited a few moments before making a reply due to his recurring inability to find the right words to say to her. "What did you want me to say?"

"I don't know," Elena blew out harshly and took the flannel from his face, the excess water dripping through her fingers before she finally set it down on the small table partially occupied by a vase of white roses. "I don't like not seeing you." She confessed gently and took a seat next to him on the edge of the bed.

It hit him like a thousand volts of electricity through his body, along with an intense swelling of his heart; pure and untameable happiness, because she had missed him.

"That night…" Damon began.

"Damon, we don't have to talk about this."

"Just, let me get this out." He requested firmly before shifting on the bed to look at her and when she mirrored his movements, the soft brush of her leg against his made his control waver. Taking a deep breath and vowing his hormones to keep in check, at least for the time being, he brought his eyes to hers. He didn't know anything like this could exist, the intensity of every moment with her, it was overpowering and unbelievable, and he worried that it was only because he couldn't have her. "Things changed for me that night. So many things changed," Damon sighed, rose from the bed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Before, things were pretty simple. I would flirt with you, you would tell me to back off, obviously, because you're engaged, to my boss, nevertheless. But that's the thing; you're not in love with him. I don't think you love him at all." The accusation he was making was going to go one of two ways; she would become furious, and insist she loved Frank, or she would cry. Neither would be good.

To his surprise, she did neither. She pulled her tantalizingly long legs up onto the bed with the rest of her body and crossed them neatly. "What else changed?" she asked, completely ignoring the fact that he had just accused her of not being in love with her fiancé.

Not having any other choice but to continue, Damon carried on with his list. "I've been sleeping with Andie."

"I know." Her expression almost looked hurt, and it pained him.

"You know?"

"She's across the hall from me Damon, of course I know."

He watched and heard the soft sigh fall from her lips, exasperatedly running the palm of his hand over his face and through his hair in response. She had him so mixed up in every which way; he didn't know what to think anymore. He felt like he owed her an apology for sleeping with Andie for an entire week and he didn't understand why. "Do you care?" he finally asked.

"Should I?"

"Don't do that, damn it!" He snapped. "Why can't you just be straight with me? I know you feel something, before that night; sure, I would have backed off once again like I have so many times. But I saw the way you looked at me that night, you wanted me, and that's exactly why I've avoided you for the last week. It was so easy before, but then when I realised you felt something back, I didn't know how I could possibly be around you if I knew you wanted the same thing, because this," he motioned between the two of them, "can never happen, I know that, so why can't I walk away?"

"I don't know what you want me to say." She murmured softly and tucked her hands in the triangular void created by her legs.

"You don't love him." He repeated.

"It's complicated."

"Complicated? It's not complicated, Elena. It's really quite simple. You either love someone or you don't."

"But it's not _just_ that simple, he's my fiancé."

"Right, of course, he's your fiancé therefore you _must _love him." He shook his head fiercely. Their conversation had taken a complete U-turn, the last thing he wanted to do was to fight with her, but she made things so hard, why couldn't she just be honest with him? "You know what? Why don't you figure out your complications and let me know when things are simple?" he said bitterly, and stormed from the room with an emphasized slam of the door. He needed a drink, or fifty.

* * *

><p>Elena fell back against the cool sheets of the bed and blew out a harsh breath of air. The atmosphere still heated from Damon's frustration followed by his angry exit from the room causing the sadness arisen from a whole week of not seeing him, to increase even further. She assumed she would feel surprised that he had figured out she didn't love Frank in any way, but when the theory left his mouth, she felt nothing except a small relief. Nonetheless, she still couldn't be completely honest. How could she? If she admitted she didn't love Frank, the resulting question out of Damon's mouth would have been 'Then why are you with him?' and that was a question she couldn't provide an answer for.<p>

Her mind too preoccupied, Elena remained on the up-side of the white bed sheets, staring aimlessly at the patterned ceiling above until her eyelids drifted to a shut, a dark veil coaxing her into a dream-filled sleep.

_BANG._ Elena jolted up from the bed, her eyes still groggy and sleep filled as she peered around the room, the only source of light streaming dimly from two side table lamps.

_BANG. BANG. _Eventually locating the sound, she climbed from the bed and padded to the door, pulling it open in one quick motion of her hand and experiencing the minor trauma of the bright corridor lights intrusion on her and the room. Since her hand had instinctively shielded her eyes, it wasn't until she let it fall from her face did she see who was knocking on her door at god knows what time of night.

"Damon," she groaned unhappily, dreading the idea of a continuance of their earlier heated discussion. Just with one look she knew exactly where he had been all night. "You're drunk."

Brushing off her statement with a flick of his hand then clumsily slipping around her, the reeking mixture of cigarette smoke and bourbon escalating as he proceeded into the confines of her room.

"I just had a lovely conversation with the barman downstairs," He revealed, turning around to face her as she shut the door and leant her back against the cool wood. "Long story short, he was having a conversation with a very beautiful girl a few nights ago, long chocolate brown hair, eyes that could have come from a doe, sound familiar?"

"What are you, checking up on me?" she accused.

"Actually, no," Damon objected. "I was enjoying drowning myself in bourbon, and then the barman makes a comment of there must be something in the water, because I was the second person this week to walk in that bar with a face like someone just murdered my Cavalier King Charles spaniel."

Elena nodded in understanding, not really needing him to explain the rest of the story but still he continued. "So, me, being the quick-witted man I am, asked the very nice barman to describe this other person to me, and guess who matched the description?"

"Alright, Damon, I get it."

"After swearing to secrecy and all that, he told me this girl admitted she wasn't happy because she wasn't in love with her fiancé."

"I know what I said, I don't need a reminder." She murmured.

"But here's where it gets interesting; she also told him-

"That I'm trapped." She finished off.

"And are you?" His tone had turned soft now, and she reluctantly lifted her head from its low hang to look at him.

"You already know the answer." She told him simply. For once, she wasn't going to be afraid, of Frank, of losing everything, she was tired of keeping everything locked inside, it was holding her to the bottom of the ocean, slowing stealing her soul when she just wanted to be free.

"You don't love him." he echoed his own words from their last conversation, his blue eyes drowning her yet still allowing her to breathe.

"I don't." She bravely confirmed without hesitation.

Wielding an equal act of courage, she watched Damon close the small distance between them in the matter of a heartbeat, take her face between his hands and lower his lips to hers, allowing them to meet for the first time. She responded almost instantaneously, her lips coming to life underneath his and her hands delving into his hair, the tight hold betraying the urgency she had for him. She didn't care that this could never happen, or that they could never be together, right in that moment, all she cared about was her lips against his and the eruption of passion and life he spurred from within the shell she thought was empty. She let out a soft moan as he took her bottom lip captive between his teeth and finished off with a few sucks and nibbles, melting her own body with the delicious, hard lines of his. His tongue traced her lips, pleading for entry into her mouth, to which she quickly granted and was soon generously rewarded when it slid sensuously along hers, as if they had been doing this exact thing for a thousand years.

His hands now on her waist, he used a small ounce of his strength to pull her from the door and spin them around, gaining the ability to step them towards the bed.

Before the back of her knees even made contact with the bed, a shrill ringing rippled from the pocket of his tight black pants, causing them to abruptly break apart and extinguish the uncontrollable fire burning through their veins.

Damon huffed impatiently and dug into his pocket, just as quickly retrieving his still ringing cell phone and glancing at the brightly lit screen.

"Andie," He muttered under his breath and Elena took a step back as he clicked 'ignore'. If any word held the effect of a bucket of ice water over her head, it was that one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note: **Here's chapter 5! It was taking longer than I expected because I kept losing inspiration :( But then I had a reallly sweet review from chellethebelle and it helped me alot, so thank you so much, once again! Thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews and let me know what you think!

* * *

><p><strong>5<strong>

"_A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." - Titanic_

Now it seemed it was Elena's turn to do the avoiding. With her best efforts, she had successfully managed to keep her and Damon's paths uncrossed from the time he left her hotel room at the early hours of the morning, until this very moment that she currently spent sat on the 9:30am return flight to New York.

It was only the morning after therefore the tension was still running as high as it had been the night before. Typically, after Damon had purposely ignored the phone call from his 'beneficial friend', he had expected them to start right back up where they had left off. Typical man thing, or typical Damon Salvatore thing, she didn't know, but she wasn't having any of it. Instead, she suggested he leave because what happened should never have happened; even if it had been the single most electrifying and thrilling moments of her life. But of course, he could never know that because he would make it happen again, without a doubt. And she wasn't sure she held the will power to stop it, especially not after the taster she got last night; it was safe to say he was an expert at kissing.

Elena thoughtlessly lifted her fingers to her lips where she could still feel his kiss and fluttered her eyes to a close in order to run the moment through her mind one more time. She should view it as a mistake, but she couldn't seem to. She had let her desire to be free overcome her and it couldn't happen again, yet she couldn't resent any part of it. The way his lips fused with hers, the way his tongue created a delicious friction along her own, she felt no regret, only burning desire for a recurrence and that's what terrified her. She had to protect her heart, and she knew one thing; it wasn't safe with Damon Salvatore. You would assume she would be afraid of Frank, but she wasn't. He didn't have to ability to break her heart because he didn't want it, Damon, on the other hand, was trying to get inside.

Luckily, the plane would be landing in JFK in approximately an hour, where she could breeze as quickly as possible out of the airport, into the limousine that would be waiting for her and straight home where she would call Caroline and invite her over for a huge drinking and comfort food session, or what every young girl would refer to as; a girls night.

Therefore that is exactly what she did, thankfully, minus any type of run-in with the man she least wanted to see, or most, she wasn't sure.

* * *

><p>"Elena! Open up! I have Rum!" Caroline called through the door of Elena's apartment. If there was one thing Caroline would choose to have on a deserted island, it would be an unlimited amount of Rum to drink, Elena had no doubt about that.<p>

"I'm coming!" Elena called back with a small chuckle, using hurried footsteps to reach the door and yank it open to reveal her closest friend, glowing as ever.

"Hi, friend" Caroline greeted her with a kiss to the cheek and a warm hug before flitting around her and into the apartment, heading straight for the kitchen while Elena closed the door. "So, how was Paris?"

Elena followed Caroline's lead, finding her already digging through the overhead kitchen cupboards for two glasses.

"It was… interesting." Elena answered flatly.

"Well that's not good." Caroline evaluated. Finally retrieving two wine glasses and placing them on the kitchen counter with a light chink and unscrewing the lid from the bottle of Rum, Elena watched the relocation of the liquid into the two glasses from her lean against the kitchen island.

"What? I said it was interesting." Elena said with a small shrug.

"Yes, but you said it with the same enthusiasm you would have on death row." Caroline grabbed the coca cola she had also brought along to their girls night, and added it to the rum in each glass. Elena contemplated an answer, unsure whether to skirt around or just admit the truth of what happened in Paris. Running through her options, and obviously taking too long, she forced Caroline to make a quick assumption. 'What happened?'

Elena frowned and willingly accepted the glass Caroline handed to her while taking a sip of her own. 'What makes you think something happened?' Elena matched Caroline's sipping of her drink, with the exception of her individual intentions being to mask the betrayal she knew her face would provide.

"If you get any deeper into that glass, you'll need a snorkel." Caroline quipped.

Elena let out a huff, pulled the tilted glass from her mouth and twisted her upper body, allowing her to set the glass down upon the kitchen island.

"Okay, yes something happened, but that something is never going to happen again, ever." Elena babbled out, whipping her hands back and forth in a horizontal cutting motion to emphasize her dead-set against it happening again.

"Elena, for god's sake, spit it out." She urged her impatiently.

"I kissed Damon." Elena confessed, instantly dropping her eyes to the floor as it spilled from her mouth.

"You kissed Damon Salvatore?"

"He kissed me, I let him." She stumbled over her words that held the weight of an elephant. "It's all very confusing."

"Wow."

"Wow?" Elena repeated, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"Was it good?" Caroline queried casually, bringing a hot flush to Elena's cheeks while doing so.

"Caroline! That is completely inappropriate."

"That means it was, then." Caroline raised one of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at Elena. She wanted to argue that it wasn't good in the slightest, that she hadn't enjoyed it for a second, but of course, that would be a lie, and she didn't want to lie any more than she already did every day. Caroline, taking her silence as agreement, continued. "Obviously better than Frank."

Only letting out a breathy chuckle, Elena grabbed the Rum bottle from the counter and poured herself another glass, set the bottle back down and buried her face into the wine glass as effectively as possible without getting any of its contents on her face, drinking it down in one gulp.

"Oh, come on, Elena, he's _Damon Salvatore_," Elena noticed the way her friend drawled out his name, unsure what was going to spill from her pretty mouth next. "There's a reason he's been with almost every beautiful woman in the city."

"Every?" Elena murmured, more to herself than Caroline.

Overwrought with shame, she leant over and set her glass down on the counter that held the Rum, lifting the slight weight of its bottle up in her grasp one more time and pouring a generous amount into the glass until it made contact with the top. "Right, of course" Elena shook her head softly, a chuckle escaping. She was a complete idiot. Of course she knew Damon had been with a lot of women, but she hadn't realised she might be one of them, added to the pile he could care less about. Why had she even let him kiss her? Why had she let him get close?

"Oh god, I did it again didn't I? I'm so sorry Elena, I didn't mean-

"No, you're right." Elena stopped her. "I was an idiot."

"No, hey," Caroline appeared at her side without a moment's pause, her arm draping around Elena's shoulders and her slender fingers providing a comforting squeeze to their rest upon her upper arm. "You're not an idiot. Maybe it's different with you." She offered.

"I'm engaged, how could I let him kiss me?" _Because you're not, remember?_ An inner voice commented smartly. What she was really asking was; how could she let him kiss her when she knew his reputation?

"It's okay." Caroline soothed.

"No, it's not okay." Elena shook her head fiercely, put down the wine glass and picked up the bottle of Rum; pouring herself a fourth serving in expert time, after all, she had spent an entire two weeks when she was 17 years old, tending bar instead of carrying out her usual 'duties' due to an incident with a client.

Casting the vivid memories to one side, she pushed herself from the counter with one hand, her drink in the other, and looked at her friend. "I knew who he was, and I let my guard down for a second, and he got in. It won't happen again." The firm promise sent a strong wave of determination through her bones and she finished her fourth drink with a slight wince, it didn't matter how many times in the past she had downed neat spirits, they still held the same effect on the first occasion, the same burn travelling down her throat, the same wince, but right now, she didn't care. Cutting out the middle man by placing her glass in the empty sink and grabbing the bottle by its neck, Elena turned on her heel and proceeded into the living area of her apartment, shortly joined by Caroline.

* * *

><p>Elena flicked on each of the lamps scattered evenly around the apartment, grateful for the luminous glow replacing the darkness. She felt better after spending the entire day with Caroline, catching one another up on their last week occurrences. To her delight, Caroline had finally accepted a date with Matt, the barman, which they had arranged for tomorrow night. Obviously, she had no news that was equivalent in pleasure, but still, she had rum.<p>

A small, yet firm knock to the door rippled from across the apartment, snapping Elena from her thoughts and naturally causing her feet to advance towards it as effectively as possible with half a bottle of rum in her system. She clumsily pulled open the door to discover Frank, bold and unattractive as ever.

"Drinking again, are we"' he commented condescendingly and breezed into the apartment.

"Please, come in." Elena blew out, pushing the door shut and following him into the depth of the apartment.

"I own it." He sneered in return.

"Right, of course, you own everything in this apartment, including me," she sniped. She was treading on thin ice, no matter how many times he would deliver threats or slaps to her face she still couldn't_ not_ stand up to him, no matter how loud her common sense screamed at her.

"Yes, I do." He agreed, much to her surprise.

"So you've come to check up on your prized possession have you?" she muttered bitterly, heading towards the kitchen where Caroline's and her own wine glass remained in the sink unwashed. "But we both know I'm not prized, am I?" she turned from the sink to look at him, her hands still resting on the counter behind.

"You never have been." He replied coolly.

Elena let out a bitter laugh. "Replacing one prison cell for another, it's all the same right?"

"This prison cell is nothing like the one you had before I came along," he pointed out. "You were nothing before this."

"So I've been told." She retorted. "So tell me something Frank, if you think so little of me, why is it I'm here?"

"I don't have time for this." He told her and started off towards the door.

"Right, you don't have time for the woman who you promised a better life, the woman you manipulated into believing you would take care of her!" She shouted after him, causing his brisk and angered steps in the direction of the door to come to a halt.

"I'm sorry, is this not taking care of you?" Frank whirled around on the spot, gesturing to the apartment surrounding them and then back to her.

"It's keeping me imprisoned!"

"There's that word again, _prison,_ yet I don't see any iron bars or shackles, do you?"

"Just because no one can see them, doesn't mean they're not there." She said in a much softer tone than before. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I didn't force you into this, it was your choice!" Frank fumed, his tawny eyes darkening in relation to the anger boiling his blood. This was the moment she should back down and admit defeat, but when he came to a stop in front of her in aid of large steps, she felt her body square up to his.

"You didn't tell me what I was choosing!" She exclaimed.

"I didn't see people lining up at the door with other options for you," He seethed angrily.

With that reminder, Elena relaxed slightly from the frustrated posture her body created in defence to Frank's anger and raised voice. £You're right. I didn't have any other option, and even if I had, I probably would have still chosen yours because you manipulated me into thinking I would be walking into a new life! Well, look around, Frank, is this the life you so smoothly sold all those years ago to a naïve girl? A fake engagement to a man who is nothing but a sick and twisted bully-

She had expected a slap, he had given her one for much less, but when her face swung to the side and a crack sounded from the harsh contact of his knuckles against her jaw, she knew it was much worse this time. He had never punched her before, nor had she ever been punched in the face and right now, she understood why people complained. Elena was struck silent, literally. Bringing her fingers to touch the delicate state of her jaw, she hissed lightly and kept her eyes from meeting with his. Frank remained silent, not that anything would change what just happened, not that he would even want to, she could tell by the way he turned and prowled from the apartment, slamming the door in his exit loud enough to make her jolt.

She took a deep breath to calm her stunned nerves, but still she couldn't seem to stop her body from quaking. The fact that he had just punched her couldn't seem to process in her mind; neither could tears form from behind her eyes. She couldn't estimate how long it had been since she cried, but she knew it had been a long, long time.

* * *

><p>"Elena, I know you're in there." The silky voice she dreamt about almost every night called from outside her apartment door, it was enough to put her on edge as she frantically checked her face in the mirror, satisfied when she found the dark bruise had almost disappeared from along her jaw then moved to open the door. What was he even doing here? She had made it clear that she was avoiding him, yet here he was, at her door, consistently knocking at the wood for the last five minutes until she finally gave up and decided he wasn't going anywhere soon so she might as well see what he wanted then get rid of him as soon as possible.<p>

Elena pulled open the door and stared at him blankly across the door threshold. He looked even better than she could remember, and it had only been a week.

"What do you want?" she asked, trying her best to not sound happy he was here, in front of her, looking like a god in a black suit.

"You're avoiding me." He said matter-of-factly.

"So?" her eyes narrowed. "You did it first."

Damon chuckled and she suddenly hated how childish she had sounded.

"What are we, in some kind of eye for an eye game?" he slipped around her with invitation, the sweet masculine smell of his cologne and skin that clung to him making her weak.

"Yes, we are actually," her eyes followed his movements but her hand remained on the door, keeping it ajar because there was no way she was allowing him to stay."So why don't you take your _eyes _and get out."

"Why haven't you been in work?" he quizzed, completely ignoring her demand. She hadn't been in work for an entire week so obviously it would draw some attention, but of course, she couldn't go into work with a bruised jaw. Frank would never have anyone thinking he was hitting her, even though he had.

"I was sick." She lied.

"Are you pregnant?" he grinned when she instantly shot him a deathly glare.

"Do I _look _pregnant?"

"I don't know. What do pregnant women look like?" he teased.

After a few moments of her scowl burning into his amused expression, she huffed impatiently and opened her mouth to speak. "Was there something you actually wanted, Damon?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay."

The look in his eyes told her he did care about her, and that he wasn't just interested in getting her into bed, but she knew she shouldn't be fooled, he was only interested in two things, sex and money, the same as all men. "Or you came to see if we could pick up where we left off in Paris." She accused.

"What?" he looked dumbfounded.

"It's not going to happen. What happened…was a mistake." She struggled to put force into her words, because in reality, she didn't view it as a mistake, not really. He made her feel alive when she thought she had nothing left in her, she just felt foolish for forgetting who he was.

"We kissed." He reminded her.

"I know what we did, I was there."

"You told me you didn't love Frank."

"What is this, a running commentary?" she huffed.

Quickly averting her eyes from his magnificent form that currently approached her and came to a direct stop a mere foot away. Her grasp on the door tightened, enough that it hurt her hand.

"I'm not doing this," she told him as strong as she could manage. "You use women, and I've already been used by men enough to last me a lifetime, I'm not about to be one of your cast-offs."

"Elena, what-

"Just go." She had wanted it come out as an order, but it only came out as a mere plea.

Thankfully, he did as she asked, and slipped from the apartment, leaving the essence of his smell behind and a soft kiss to her forehead that melted her insides.

* * *

><p>Elena sat solemnly at her dressing table, slowly running a brush through her long chocolate curls while watching her reflection. She was overcome with sadness; she had been for the whole day, since the moment Damon left, she felt… empty.<p>

It was strange, she had only known him for a few months and he had such a huge impact on her. From the moment she met him, he had reignited the spark in her that had been instantly extinguished by the traitorous waters of the ocean Frank kept her trapped under, every time Damon was near, she felt like she could breathe, every time he left, she would drown all over again.

Setting her silver brush down upon the wood of the dressing table, she raised her fingers to prod at the part of her jaw that had now returned to normal, feeling grateful that she had always been a fast healer.

Her attention transfixed on her thoughts, she hadn't registered the entry of someone into her apartment until she noticed the movement in the mirror. Even through the blanket of darkness, she knew who it was, his long billowing black coat and visible grey suit underneath, her worst nightmare in a businessman's suit. He hadn't come to see her for the whole week her jaw had been healing, he called every day but his manner and tone was as cold as ever.

She didn't get up; she didn't greet him or even respond. She just stared into the mirror, wondering if this was all her life would ever be.

"No one can ever give you as good as a life that I can." He said softly. She didn't think she had ever heard his voice so soft, or genuine.

She attempted no reply, just a simple and weak nod of her head, coming to the realisation that this was what her life was now. She had to accept that. Just as she lifted her eyes to meet his, she noticed the fairly large blue velvet rectangle box in his hand and wondered what he could possibly have. It couldn't be for her, unless it was part of the ruse that was their relationship and engagement. He approached her then, his steps almost as soft as his voice and he dropped to a crouch by her side, prying open the box to reveal what was inside, a gasp flying from her mouth as her eyes fixed on the magnificent beauty.

"They call it 'The Heart of the Ocean'," Frank told her.

Tracing every detail of the necklace, she was awe-stricken. The large heart-shaped blue diamond pendant shone out at her, reminding her of the magnificent glisten of the oceans waves when it's met with the sun, and the 65 small round diamonds surrounding the pendant defined it elegantly. "It's platinum-set, 170 carat." He added, and with careful fingers he unhooked the necklace from its set place within the box, dangling it from his fingers on one hand then using the other to sweep her hair from her neck. It was truly magnificent, but she knew it was not a gift of love, or affection, it was a bribe. Undoing the clasp of the necklace and taking it between his other fingers, he manoeuvred the heart pendant to a rest above her breasts and secured it around her neck.

"It's beautiful." Elena said barely above a whisper. She could only stare at it; it was without a doubt, one of the most beautiful things she had ever set sights on. She only wished it had come out of love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors note: **So here's chapter 6! Its short but I just wanted to use it as a little insight into Stefan and Damon. Annnnnnd the part where Stefan had something to tell Damon is important! but you won't find out what it is for a little while :) Thank you so much again for the reviews, I didn't expect people to actually like this story, or my writing so it means tons to me, and I hope you enjoy!

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><p><strong>6<strong>

"_Don't you do that, don't you get mad at me. I had to look out for you. That's my job."_

"_And what do you think my job is? You save my life over and over, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother; there is nothing that I wouldn't do for you." – **Supernatural.**_

"Damon-

Stefan Salvatore stepped into his older brother's office, which was located directly across the ivory decorated hall from his own, only to be cut short of his request as he found Damon emptying a half-drunken bottle of whiskey, into his mouth and down his throat. "Are you drunk?" Stefan asked.

Damon retrieved the bottle from his mouth and set it down on the desk with a soft thud, lifted his hand motioned with his forefinger and thumb that he had only had a little to drink. Of course, Stefan didn't believe that. "What are you doing, Damon?"

"Rebelling," Damon answered simply.

Stefan sighed and walked further into the office, ensuring to shut the door as he did. "We're not in high school anymore."

"Really? Because I could've sworn you're still as whiny as you were back then." Damon teased, his usual bright blue eyes darkened from the alcohol.

"Do you realise what Frank would do if he found you like this?"

"Like I care" Damon scoffed.

"Are you trying to get fired?"

"Oh, please. He's not going to fire me, the only reason he would fire me is if I fucked his fiancée." Damon spat out bitterly and reached for the discarded bottle of Jack Daniels, returning it to his lips for a large gulp then setting it back down.

"Elena?" Stefan asked quizzically.

"Yes, Elena"

Stefan could tell the way his brother drawled out her name, his mind was on exactly that. He had obviously noticed the way Damon looked at her, he wasn't blind. But he couldn't help but wonder if his intentions were good or bad; did he only want her because he couldn't have her? If that was so, then this would not end well. Actually, it wouldn't end well either way.

"Damon," Stefan took a seat on the chair in front of Damon's large oak desk, grabbed the bottle of whiskey by its neck and took a sip.

Damon groaned in response and threw his head back. "Stefan, don't start."

"You realise what will happen if you pursue this, don't you?"

"There's nothing to pursue, she shot me down. You can put your mind at ease." He told him nonchalantly.

"And…"

"And nothing"

Stefan took another drink from the bottle, this time ensuring it was a larger gulp. He obviously knew he shouldn't be drinking, not at work, and especially not after he just gave his older brother a lecture about it, but still, he knew the best way to get Damon to relax and open up was through shared drink, or a miracle. Besides, a few gulps wouldn't harm.

"The Damon Salvatore I know wouldn't have given up so easily."

"So you want me to go after her?" Damon's brow furrowed in confusion.

"No, I'm just saying, this isn't like you. The way you look at her, the way you're drinking yourself into a pit of alcoholism. It's just… different to what you've always been like. When a woman shoots you down, you walk away, and find something prettier, yet you're still pining over her, just like you did with Katherine."

"I do not _pine._"Damon argued

"Just answer me one thing, Damon."

"What?"

"Is it because you can't have her, or because she's Franks?"

"This isn't about the chase, and it isn't about Frank." Damon told him, his tone firm and genuine, allowing Stefan to believe him.

"Promise me." Stefan urged.

"What are we, teenage girls?"

"Damon-

"Okay, fine! I promise."

"Okay." Stefan nodded once and rose from the chair, taking the bottle of whiskey with him, just to be on the safe side, much to Damon's protest.

He couldn't help but worry for his older brother; it's the way it always had been. Damon could be so reckless and impulsive that Stefan felt he had no choice but to take on the responsibility of looking out for him, the same way Damon would if Stefan ever got into trouble.

Stefan sighed and took a seat on the leather chair behind his desk, relishing in the warmth that remained there from his recent abandonment of it. Even with Damon promise, he had the niggling gut feeling that things weren't going to get any easier, not for his brother, therefore, not for himself.

* * *

><p>"Mr Salvatore?" The quant knock and voice of his Personal Assistant, Rose, made Damon groan internally. Couldn't he be left in peace for five minutes?<p>

"Yes?" He called out while rocking back and forth wildly in his office chair.

"There's a message for you, from Andie Starr, she wants to know if you want to have dinner with her this evening," Rose informed him through the wooden door, causing Damon to groan out loud this time.

"Tell her I died." He retorted.

"Excuse me, sir?" She said coyly.

It was ridiculous that he was having a conversation through a door, but he just couldn't muster any kind of effort to leave the chair, especially after a quarter bottle of whiskey.

"Just… tell her I'm not in, Rose, would you, please?" He forced himself to be pleasant to his personal assistant; after all, there was no need to get shirty with her. 'Don't kill the messenger', that's what everyone says. The shadow of Rose's feet disappeared when he finally took a peek at the bottom of the door where the corridor light shone in, therefore he could relax again. Well, he couldn't relax because now all he could think is why on earth he had slept with Andie in the first place? Right, because she was a distraction. Which made him a complete and utter dick, Elena was right; he did use women. Still, he wondered what she meant by being used enough by men to last a lifetime?

In his defence, it was different with her, entirely and extremely different. He didn't want her for just one night, or a few nights, he wanted her for always. He realised it the moment she responded to his kiss, he would never get enough of her, yet he couldn't have her. It was truly a predicament he was in.

Damon looked to the large circular clock that hung on his office wall to find it was 4:37pm. He had an hour and a half to kill which seemed impossible right now. Maybe he could pester Stefan for an hour. Quickly deciding that was the best idea he had had all day, except for the whiskey binge at lunch, he practically leapt from the chair and breezed from his office. He was across the hall and crossing onto the carpet of his younger brother's office in approximately seven seconds, where he was met with his quizzical green eyes.

"Come for your whiskey?" Stefan smiled mischievously then returned his attention to the papers on his desk.

"No," Damon gave a quick reply, moving deeper into the office until he reached the desk. "Actually, I came to see you."

"You're bored."

Damon held a hand to his chest, faking offense taken on his part. "Does there have to be a reason I come to visit my little brother?"

"I'm not little and you're right across the hall." Stefan objected, his eyes still on the paper he was swiftly writing on. Damon huffed childishly and took a seat on the velvet chair that matched the one in his own office.

"Come on, Stefan,"

"Come on what? You do realise we're in work." Stefan pointed out.

"Like you'll ever let me forget" Damon muttered.

"Damon, I swear to God, I am three seconds away from throwing something at your head." He warned, still not looking up.

"You throw like a girl."

"I was on the football team."

"You still throw like a girl." Damon repeated casually, earning a harsh blow of air from Stefan's mouth.

"I'm more than willing to test that theory."

"But I'm bored." Damon whined petulantly.

"Do work, then." Stefan suggested.

"Really? You think work is going to not bore me to death?"

"Then, why don't you go see Andie? I'm sure she would be more than happy to entertain you." Stefan looked up, a cheeky smile rippled across his face and his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You know about that?" Damon queried.

"She's told everyone in the building you're dating." Stefan informed him, his face more joyful than Damon liked.

"Dating?" He ridiculed, jolting up from his slouch on the chair. "I slept with her…" He tried to come up with the number of times he slept with her in his head but came out blank. "Okay, so I slept with her… a few times, but no one ever said _anything _about dating."

"Well, maybe it's time you got yourself a nice, _available _girlfriend like Andie."

Damon marked the way Stefan seemed to emphasize the word 'available' and decided he earned a scowl for his troubles. "Where's the fun in that?" He joked.

"Damon, you promised." Stefan warned.

"Yes, yes, I promised, blah, blah, blah." He successfully pushed himself up from the confines of the velvet chair and moved towards the open door. "You always did suck at entertaining me."

"That's because I'm male." Stefan shot back and Damon peered over his own shoulder while exiting the room to provide his younger brother with a sarcastic smile which Stefan had already perfected.

Returning to his office, Damon felt the same sense of accomplishment he always received after successfully winding his brother up. It was like a form of therapy. He left the door open, in hope that a circulation of air through the office space would force time to quicken, not likely, but still worth a try. Running a hand through his black tousled hair and glancing at the clock one more time, to find it was 5:13pm. 47 minutes.

He didn't know why he was so anxious to get back to his apartment, or to Lloyds, whichever was quickest, it's not like anything was waiting for him. Mostly, he just wanted to drink and not worry about being on the receiving end of a lecture.

After 47 minutes of pacing the length of his office, the clock finally struck dead on 6:00pm and Damon practically ran out the door, shutting it behind him and quickly straightening his black suit and smoothing his blue tie. It was lucky he was good at his job; otherwise he probably would have been fired by now due to days like these where he got no work done in the slightest.

"Wait!" Damon heard the call of his brothers' demand from back down the corridor as he closed in on the elevators.

"God," He groaned for what seemed like the hundredth time in one day, and spun around to meet his brother catching up to him. "I think we've had enough brotherly bonding for one day, Stefan."

"I beg to differ." Stefan argued.

"What are you up to?" Damon eyed him suspiciously.

"Do I need a reason to see my big brother?" Stefan mocked.

"Hilarious, Stefan, really" He scoffed sarcastically and turned his attention to the arrival of the elevator before stepping inside, quickly followed by Stefan. "So, what is it?" Damon asked the moment the gold doors drifted to a shut and the elevator slowly moved downwards.

"Well, there's something-

A sharp ringing of a cell phone erupted between the four walls, interrupting Stefan's chance at informing Damon what exactly he thought couldn't possibly wait until tomorrow, causing them both to grope at their suit jackets until they discovered it was actually Damon's. Taking a single glance at the lit up screen of his cell phone, he huffed.

"What is it?" Stefan queried with a slight concern to his voice.

"Andie," Damon replied.

"Just answer it." Stefan urged.

"But I don't want to."

"Answer it," His urge more forceful the second time.

"You're not the boss of me, I'm the eldest; therefore you do as I say, not the other way around." Damon countered with a smug grin.

"If you're not interested, tell her you're not."

"Shouldn't she just have taken the hint by now?"

"Damon, don't be a dick." Stefan advised. "For God's sake,"

Before Damon could blink, his cell phone was snatched from his grasp and being answered by Stefan.

"Damon Salvatore's phone," Stefan chimed down the phone. "Yeah, he's right here actually."

He pulled the phone from his ear and more than happily handed it to Damon, who wore a stony glower. "Hey, Andie" Damon did his best to sound sincere, even with his mouth in a tight line and teeth clenched.

"_Hey handsome," _Andie purred down the phone. "_You feel like going for a drink?"_

"Sure," He reluctantly agreed, lifting his free hand and running a forefinger horizontally across his neck while mouthing 'you're dead' in Stefan's direction, much to Stefan's obvious amusement. "I'll see you at Lloyd's." Damon hung up the phone and scoffed loudly, the scowl on his face remaining perfectly intact.

"So, hot date tonight?" Stefan teased, his smile widening even further.

"You'll pay for that." Damon threatened.

* * *

><p>He didn't know how long he had been sat at the bar in Lloyd's, pretending to be listening to Andie chatter on about something he could care less about, but it felt like it had been long while. Damon kept his eyes on her, even as his mind wandered elsewhere. This was entirely Stefan's fault. Right now, he should be home in a drunken stupor, instead his brain was dribbling out of his ears due to the annoying tone of Andie's voice. Scanning her appearance, he couldn't help but compare her to Elena. Now he thought about it, that's all he seemed to do with every woman lately.<p>

She didn't have the long chocolate curls that begged to be stroked, the pouted lips, the warm brown eyes and she certainly didn't have Elena's personality; the kindness, the strength, the vulnerability. She seemed to have a mixture of the complete opposite virtues that never ceased to amaze him.

It wasn't that Andie was all that bad, she just wasn't Elena.

"Andie," The soft tone of his voice caught her attention and brought her chattering to a stop. "I can't do this."

"Do what?" She quizzed.

"This," He motioned between them. "I'm sorry, but this, isn't what I want. Sure, it was fun, but I don't want to be your boyfriend, and I don't want to be your 'beneficial friend'." So this is what letting someone down easy was. Damon wanted to chuckle at his own realization but remembered he was in a genuine moment. He didn't want to hurt Andie feelings. Sure, he was a dick 99% of the time but Andie was a sweet girl, annoying, but still sweet and he didn't want her hurt because of him.

He gave another quick apology before hopping down from the bar stool and continuing out of the bar. He wanted to go to Elena's, to see her; to explain how different it was with her, but what would that accomplish?

So instead, he turned down the street that led to his apartment, instead of the one that led to hers, and proceeded until he made contact with the wooden floor of the large apartment he had lived in for exactly six months. Letting out a sigh, Damon shut the door and slipped out of his suit jacket while thinking over the events of today. Stefan was right, not that he would ever admit that to him, it had been the right thing to just be honest with Andie. Oddly, it was Stefan who was guiding him, when it should be the other way round. At least he could be proud of the fact that he had brought his little brother up into a man well, and grateful that Stefan somehow didn't get his ways from him, since they had had no one else growing up after their mother died of lung cancer. He would never forget the day the doctor told them that it had spread through her body, that there was no hope. Stefan was 16 years old, he was 19. Their mother had left their old house to them so they didn't have to move; still everything seemed to tip upside down. Damon lost his mother and became responsible for Stefan all at once; he'd be lying if he said it was easy, it wasn't. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he never once resented Stefan for it. It was more likely that he would blame himself for any mess-ups, not Stefan. After all, he was responsible for him and he promised his mother he would be there for him, no matter what. They messed around, fought and annoyed each other endlessly, just like they did now, but at the end of the day, they took care of each other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors note: **So here's chapter 7! All Elena based this time :) Thank you so so much for the reviews and the support, it really is amazing! So I hope you enjoy this chapter and the eigth is almost done! xxxxxx

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><p><strong>7<strong>

"_If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow, empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead." – __**Buffy the Vampire Slayer.**_

Elena reached up to gingerly touch the diamond that currently hung around her neck by the chain completely lined with diamonds and came to a rest just above the valley between her breasts, once again feeling the complete opposite to what she should feel towards such a grand gesture. She had had it for twelve hours and already it was suffocating her. Eyeing it one more time in the mirror before unclasping it and carefully placing it in the draw of her dressing table, she stood up and slipped around the chair, grabbing her black bag and coat in the process. She was actually glad to be going back to work, being alone in the apartment for an entire week was not good for her mental health.

She eagerly exited the apartment and the building, breathing in the fresh air while briskly crossing the pavement to the limousine Frank sent for her every morning to escort her in to work. She pulled open the rear door and slipped in, the same as she always did when it was just her getting in to the limousine after insisting all the limo drivers allow her to do it herself. As usual, it was a short drive to the building, sliding off the leather seats and setting her black pumps onto the concrete outside, Elena smoothed out her waist high black pencil skirt along with the deep purple vest that was tucked perfectly into the skirt, it was a hot day after all. She secured her bag upon her narrow shoulder and promptly moseyed through the entrance of Miller & Anderson, across the foyer, into the elevator and awaited its arrival upon the 43rd floor, then finally down the ivory corridor to her desk.

"Hey, Andie" Elena greeted her colleague as agreeably as possible as she rounded the edges of her desk and plopped down onto her chair, ridding of her bag in the process.

"Hey," Andie replied from behind the desk situated directly opposite her own.

Elena brushed the stray strands of hair from her face and gave out a faint sigh before flipping through Franks schedule for the day. It looked like a moderately easy day, much to Elena's dismay. She would prefer a busy day; at least time went quickly but today would undoubtedly drag.

"Has Frank had his coffee?" Elena queried, and watched as Andie's face fell.

"Oh my god, oh my god, I forgot his coffee," Andie exclaimed frantically, leaping from her chair and running her fingers through her short blonde hair. "He's going to fire me,"

Instinctively, Elena had also bounced up from her own chair and rushed to aid her colleague.

"Andie," Elena caught a hold of her and successfully brought her pacing to a halt, however failed in silencing her frantic babbling. "Andie!" She tried again. "Andie, calm down." A soft shake seemed to have the desired effect, causing Andie to lift her icy blue eyes and regard Elena. "He's not going to fire you; I will go out right now and get his coffee, okay?" Elena appeased.

"Okay," Andie replied weakly.

"Okay." She echoed in a much stronger tone and a small nod of her head. Retrieving her bag from its place on the floor next to her chair and proceeding back down the corridor; Elena settled the strap of her bag back onto her shoulder and came to a stop in front of the elevator doors she had only minutes ago stepped through. She wasn't exactly fond of Andie, for a few reasons, but she wasn't going to let her crumble into an emotional wreck just for Frank's cappuccino. She lifted her wrist and glanced at her watch, it was 8:56am. Fortunately, the coffee shop next door opened at 8:30am, so Frank would have to settle for the regular kind instead of his usual Starbucks which entailed her rushing across town, and that she was _not_ doing. The elevator arrived and Elena stepped inside, naturally requesting it take her to the bottom floor with the firm press of a button with her forefinger. It was only a few seconds after it began moving before it came to an abrupt stop, allowing the gold doors to drag open, unveiling the identity of the next passenger to get aboard the downward ride. _Of course it's you._ She commented silently and shifted uncomfortably on her feet as her favourite pair of blue eyes ran over her appearance. Due the way they left things, she expected it to be awkward, or tense, it certainly was on her part. But what she hadn't expected was the smug grin on the perfect structure of his lips and the flirtatious twinkle in his eyes to remain.

Damon took his place beside her, and spun gracefully on the spot to watch the doors close, the silence almost deafening her. Not that he thought so, she could tell by the amused half-smirk on his face.

"I'm not speaking to you." She revealed.

"You just did." Damon returned with a soft chuckle, matching her stubbornness and not turning to look at her.

"Well, from now on then." She argued and the small space returned to its prior silence, at least for a moment.

"How can you be mad at me for sleeping with women?" This time he did turn to look at her and she couldn't help but do the same.

Elena forced her eyes to narrow, while inside she was buzzing with adrenaline that rose against her will to the sound of his voice. "I'm not mad at you for sleeping with women," she scoffed.

"Yes, you are. You said I use women and that you weren't going to be used by me." He reminded her.

"I'm not." She confirmed wilfully.

"What makes you think I would use you?"

"Because that's who you are."

He turned his whole body to her now, the deep red colour of his tie catching her attention and that's where she left it. She knew if she lifted her eyes to meet his one more time, her body and soul would beg of her to rekindle it with his, and that she couldn't do. When he did nothing but look at her, she forced her mouth to form words; she needed a distraction from the thought of his eyes on her. "You use women and you toss them to one side."

"Unbelievable." Damon jeered.

"What?" her increasing frustration with him overwhelmed her senses and her eyes reluctantly met with his.

"You, accusing me of using people, when all you did since the moment we met was use me for your fun and games because Frank wasn't satisfying you."

"Are you saying I led you on?" She questioned in outrage.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm saying."

"That's funny, because I remember countless times reminding you that I was engaged," she seethed.

"To a man you don't love!" He shot back.

She took a deep breath before replying. "That's my problem, Damon, not yours."

"You're damn right it's not," Damon said, anger still visible in his features while hers had vanished. "Because I'm done here"

Silence had fallen once again, and this time she had no desire to break it. Even if she had, she wouldn't know what to say. She wasn't sure if it was her stomach or heart sinking, but she did know she had succeeded in pushing him away, yet no sense accomplishment overwhelmed her, only sadness. The sound of the elevator doors opening took their attention, and she watched him disappear into the foyer. Shortly following his lead, the saddened steps of her black pumps against the laminate floor took her out of the building, onto the street and into the coffee shop.

Fifteen minutes later, Elena was retracing her steps in returning to the top floor, her sadness gradually reverting to anger the more she ran the conversation through her mind. How dare he accuse her of leading him on? She had never once promised him anything; she made it clear from the very beginning that it couldn't happen. Not that she needed to, it was pretty obvious, because to him and everyone else, she was engaged to Frank. She stepped out onto her floor for the second occasion this morning, a large cappuccino in one hand and the strap of her favourite black bag in the other, her growing anger shown in the quick movements of her feet. She didn't think she had ever walked so fast up this very corridor in the years she had been here, probably because she never cared enough about anything to be so angry, until he came along, of course.

She wanted to be congratulating herself on a job well done, she just saved him from getting tangled up in something not even she wanted to be in, but nothing could ever that simple.

She had almost reached the PA desks of the 43rd floor that belonged to herself and Andie, when Andie caught sight of her approaching and immediately relaxed. "You are a life-saver," She sighed.

"I know," Elena smiled, this time it wasn't forced. "Besides, we are the two PA's with the biggest handful in the building," she gestured in the direction of Frank's glass office. "We should have each other's backs."

"Thanks, Elena."

Elena could tell Andie wasn't her usual chipper self, she had just assumed it was due to lack of sleep or something, but the sad smile and sombre tone of her voice confirmed it was more than that.

"Is everything okay?" She probably shouldn't ask, since they weren't actually friends, they barely spoke most days but maybe they could change that. Just because Damon was using her for sex, didn't mean they couldn't be friends.

"Yeah, just one of those days I guess."

"Damon?" did she just say that out loud?

By Andie's reaction she definitely did. "He ended… whatever it was we were." Andie told her glumly.

"I'm sorry." Elena said with the maximum of sympathy she could provide, which wasn't a whole lot, especially towards their 'beneficial friend' situation. It's not that she disagreed with it; she just couldn't stand anyone who would willingly allow themselves to be used by a man, especially by one who was a known womanizer. Yes, she was being partially hypocritical, or entirely, but if she got technical, it wasn't like she had a choice in the matter. One of her biggest fears was being nothing, having nothing, but wasn't it everyone's? Sometimes she would wonder if it was Frank that was stealing her life from her, or the crippling fear she held within. Maybe it was the combination of both. "I'll just take this in for Frank." Elena dropped her bag down once again, and made her way to Frank's office, ensuring she gave the glass door a quick tap with her knuckles before entering.

"Ah, Elena," Frank greeted her with moderate amiability, which was much more than he usually gave her.

"Your coffee," She held up the coffee in her hand before setting it down on the desk made entirely of glass to match the rest of the office. It revealed Frank's ridiculous obsession with 'image', because let's face it; an entire office made of glass wasn't exactly _necessary_ in a working environment. Except if you're Frank Miller.

He gave her a quick thanks and a small smile, only momentarily lifting his eyes to regard her presence and she left, dragging the glass door to a secure shut as she did.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was spent like no other 'easy day' on the 43rd floor had been; her and Andie actually communicating for longer than 5 minutes at a time, which eventually resulted in asking her along for a drink at Lloyd's with herself and Caroline. As usual, Elena saw no reason to go home and change, therefore she made her way to Lloyd's with Andie by her side, intending to meet Caroline there. She always looked forward to Lloyds, mostly because it was the one place she didn't have to see Frank, but tonight she was especially excited; it was Friday and she had already cleared it with Frank. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the ridiculous notion that she practically had to have permission to go out, but that's the way it had been for four years.<p>

Arriving through the entrance and heading straight for the bar, she ordered three shots of tequila in preparation for her friend's soon-to-be arrival. As always, Caroline did not disappoint, she joined them at the bar a few minutes later, her blonde curls and blue eyes gleaming. "Hi, friend" she directed her usual greeting towards Elena, and then turned to Andie to deliver the same enthusiasm, "Hi, new friend."

Elena chuckled and rapidly jumped into introductions.

Elena couldn't pinpoint the length of time they had been at Lloyds, honestly she didn't care; she was having fun, and she found Andie's company rather endearing, surprisingly. Abandoning their dancing threesome, she weaved through the crowds of people, manipulating the travel of her black pumps in the direction of the bar. A moment before her arms touched the damp wood; she was interjected by an inwards gliding barrier in the form of a hard, muscled body. Her eyes flew up to meet the blue ones and her body became more than aware of his being inches away.

Elena rolled her eyes. "Twice in one day, how unfortunate."

"Don't tell me you're starting an 'I hate Damon' club." He asked more than amused while bringing her attention to Andie and Caroline currently still on the dance floor.

"Yes, we are actually. After this, we're going to go back to my apartment, make a Damon voodoo doll and stick knives in it."

"Can I come?" Damon's eyebrows danced suggestively.

Her eyes automatically narrowed in response to his flirting, and her mouth readied itself to make a smart comment, but then she stopped herself. "What are you doing?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Earlier you said you were done."

"I was in a bad mood." He explained simply.

Elena couldn't help but laugh. "That's your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse, it's a mere fact."

She shook her head lightly, slipped around him and finally reached her destination. It wasn't long before he joined her, his muscled arms extremely prominent in the fitted navy dress shirt he wore as he rested them upon the bar. She hadn't noticed he didn't have his suit on until now, and her eyes didn't refrain from trailing the entire length of him. His tight black jeans fixed to him deliciously and the black biker boots seem to have the ability to turn her on. Everything about him turned her on if she was honest.

He turned to her and she was forced to snap her eyes from devouring his image. "So, are you and Andie new BFF's?"

"Yeah, we were brought together by our shared hatred of you." Elena answered sarcastically. Moments went by and he made no reply, causing the fear within her that they would be re-enacting their earlier fight to arise. She didn't want to fight with him, and she didn't want him to give up on her, contrary to what her better judgement ordered her to do.

"So you're talking to me?" Damon questioned with his crooked smile on show.

"Obviously" She answered.

"Hmm, interesting." The added twinkle in his eyes made her anxious to what exactly he meant by 'interesting.' Making no reply, only a small scowl, she watched as he leaned in tantalizingly slow and came to a stop a breath away. "I think you can't stay away from me."

Elena managed a scoff while inside she was trembling at the feel of his breath along with the burning flame of his eyes on hers. "Don't flatter yourself." Thankfully, her voice didn't betray her.

Damon chuckled and withdrew, turning his attention to Matt and ordering them both drinks, much to her voiced objection.

"Bourbon," She wrinkled her nose in disgust, nevertheless still brought the glass tumbler to his lips and took a sip. It wasn't until she returned her gaze to Damon did she notice he was staring at her. "What?"

He took a few moments, as if contemplating whether he should say anything, and finally decided on opening his mouth to speak.

"Come home with me."

"What?" she echoed in disbelief.

"Come home with me." He said much slower and firmer.

That, she was _not _expecting.

"But-

She was at a complete loss for words, mostly because she actually did want to go home with him. "But… today, you accused me of leading you on." She managed with great effort.

"Okay, so I was an idiot."

"You're admitting you were wrong?"

"Not the point here, Elena."

"Right," she snapped herself back to the more important issue.

He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his silky midnight hair. "Would you just," he cut himself off, instead took her hand and pulled her towards the exit. Luckily she kept her bag securely upon her shoulder at all times.

Once outside, he led her around the side of the building into the darkened alleyway, only stopping when privacy was ensured. He placed her against the wall and she couldn't help but shiver at the chill of the stone. He wasn't going to kiss her, much to her relief, or disappointment, she didn't know which.

"I know the drill, I should apologize for asking you to come home with me, I should order a take-back, but I'm not going to. Because I want you, and I'm not afraid to admit it, or show it."

"Damon, you're only feeling like this because I'm unattainable." Elena reasoned.

"No, that's not it. It's different with you."

"You can't be sure of that."

He took a few seconds before making a reply.

"Come home with me," although they were a repeat, the words still held the same power to render her speechless as it had the first time. "I don't care that you're Franks, I don't care if we do nothing, just spend the night with me." All of a sudden, her head was nodding ever so softly and she didn't know why. Of course she wanted to go home with him, but it was completely wrong, and not to mention forbidden. Once her nods became strong, she felt his hand take hers; the flesh instantly alighting. Everything was at stake, his career, the entire life she had tolerated for four years. Was longing for a passionate encounter with man she had only known for a few months' worth losing everything? Obviously her body thought so.

Their interlaced fingers instinctively broke apart as they reached the street, and she took her place at his side for the remainder of the journey back to his place, never forgetting to cautiously check their surroundings. The last thing she wanted was someone telling Frank she was seen going home with a man. God knows what he would do. She wanted to stop, tell Damon this wasn't going to happen, and rush to the safety of her apartment, but when his hand reunited with hers in an intimate embrace, she suddenly felt no fear or panic. Such a simple action, yet it meant everything to her.

Damon led her up the stairs and through the door of his apartment. Quickly shutting the door behind their entry, she turned to peer around the infamous Damon Salvatore's 'bachelor pad'.

"This place is huge," Elena exclaimed, momentarily forgetting the knot in her stomach that had reappeared once he unlinked their fingers.

"You haven't seen _anything_ yet." He suggested with the addition of his crooked smile and a raised eyebrow.

They weren't anywhere near each other and still she felt like her skin couldn't bear to get any hotter. No, she begged to differ, it definitely increased a few hundred degrees when he stalked over to her, placed his hands on the door behind and gave a soft force of his body against hers until her back met with the wood. She was trapped, yet there was no overbearing suffocation involved, it excited her, and the urge to have all of him, to have him possess her in ways she never had been, only grew.

She could feel every muscle of his upper body, the slow in and out movement of his chest and practically taste the sweet spice of his breath. If it was possible for the human body to melt without the aid of fire, she would have at this very moment.

Finally managing to retrieve her brain from the floor and lift her eyes to burn with his, she noticed the intense desire he was willingly showing to her, along with the slight vulnerability. It made her mentally curse herself for almost allowing him to get tangled in a twisted web of lies where Frank was the spider.

"I can't do this." Elena told him.

Damon sighed quietly. "Then why are you here?"

"I don't know," She exclaimed while separating their bodies with a small push to his chest, to which he reluctantly obliged. "I shouldn't have come here; I can't do this to you."

She was flustered, and her overwhelming need to get out of there took over her body, extended her hand to grasp the door handle and twist it to open. Before she even crossed through the doorway, he stopped her with a grab to her arm, turning her on the spot to face him. "Can't do what to me?" Damon asked dumbfounded.

"This isn't fair to you. I have to go." She pulled her arm from his grasp and rushed across the corridor and down the stairs as fast as she could in black pumps. The bellows of her name soon became inaudible as she took off down the street, hoping with every ounce of strength she had that he wouldn't chase after her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors note :** Well that was bloody quick wasnt it! haha. Hereeee's chapter 8 lovelies :) I appreciate the reviews and everything so much, so thank youuuu again and I hope you enjoy! Review and let me know what you think, or if you have any questions or if theres anything you don't understand! CIAO xxxxxx

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><p>8<p>

"_No matter what I do with this cage I cannot get at you, and it is your soul that I want." _

– _**Jane Eyre.**_

"So let's make a toast; to honesty and good business."

Elena rolled her eyes. Frank toasting about honesty was hilarious. He was the biggest liar in the room, and she was pretty sure there were lawyers present. Of course she came in a close second, but you didn't see her up there making a grand speech about how essential honesty and hard work is to business and life in general.

"Ah, Miss Gilbert." One of Frank's employers broke her train of thought, or technically, mocking of her fake fiancée, and handed her a fresh glass of champagne.

"Please, call me Elena." She told him sweet enough to give him a sugar rush. He returned her smile with an even wider one, and held his own glass of champagne up for her to clink with hers. Completing exactly what was expected, the soft clink sounded and she brought the glass to her lips, devouring it as much as possible without being called 'common'.

"So, have you set a date?" The man she still couldn't quite place questioned.

She was just about to ask for an elaboration when she caught sight of the over-the-top engagement ring gripping onto her slender finger. He was talking about the wedding.

"You should ask Frank about that, he is _so _invested in this wedding." She couldn't pass up the opportunity to embarrass Frank, even if it was just a little bit, now could she?

"Looks like he will have to put off wedding planning come Wednesday then," The man chuckled.

"I'm sorry?"

"Hasn't he told you? His father passed, he has to go home Wednesday morning to help with the arrangements and of course, the funeral on the following Monday."

"Yes, of course." Elena murmured. Frank hadn't mentioned anything about his family, or home, never mind that his father had passed away. She knew they didn't exactly get on, but he could have told her.

"If you would just excuse me," She gave him another smile, set down the empty glass then gathered the extreme flow of her red dress in both hands, revealing her expensive black peep-toe heels for the first time tonight, and was careful not to step on the pure silk material. Quickly inspecting the front of the dress for any spills and finding none, she sighed in relief. She couldn't argue that Frank had bad taste; the dresses he always chose for her to wear were immaculately stunning. She especially liked the one she had on tonight for another one of Frank's pointless business parties; the low cut of the front left only a slight view of her breasts while her entire back was bare except for the criss-cross that held the dress around her small frame. It was simple yet tantalizingly beautiful.

Weaving through the crowds until she reached Frank, Elena placed a hand on his broad shoulder, effectively catching his attention. "Could I speak to you for a second?" She queried in a small whisper.

Frank gave a nod of agreement and excused himself from the current company he had. She brought them to a halt once she was sure their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"Your father passed away?" She asked outright.

"Yes." He admitted unabashed.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What are you, my counsellor?"

Here she was, being slightly concerned, and she meant it when she said _ever so slightly_, while he was still being the complete prick he always was, even after his own father just died. Frank Miller was soulless, she was convinced now. "No, I am _supposed_ to be your fiancée."

"Well just like you say over and over again, you're not." Frank spat out.

"I'm not the one trying to keep up my image, Frank. You just say the word and this fake engagement can be over."

"It'll be over when I say it's over." He seethed.

She was treading dangerous waters, but as usual, she didn't care. "You're not doing a very good job at convincing people we're actually together, since your own fiancée knew nothing about your father's death."

"It doesn't concern you." He returned darkly.

"Is that what you're going to say when we see your family?"

"You're not going to."

Elena's brow furrowed. "You're not taking me with you?"

"No," Frank confirmed. "Someone could recognize you, and I don't feel like having to explain to my entire family why I'm engaged to someone like you."

"I'm not that same girl anymore, Frank. You made sure of that."

"I'm not having one of your old 'clients' remember you. You're not coming, and that's final."

He gave her no chance to object, only turned and walked away, leaving her confused. It wasn't that she even wanted to spend time with him, the less time she spent with him, the better, but she just didn't understand him. Then again, she never had.

A sharp intake of air disturbed her thoughts and caught her attention. "Lovers tiff?" Damon cooed, a little too satisfied, as usual.

"What did you hear?" Elena asked, worried.

"Me? Nothing," Damon revealed, to her relief. "But by the look on your faces, I wouldn't say you were deciding on which flowers to have at your wedding."

"Perceptive."

"I like to think so." His voice was low and seductive, releasing the butterflies from their cage within her stomach.

"Well, I'm going home. Good night, Damon." Her sharp tone revealed the uneasiness she felt around him, especially since that night. Evidently he caught on to it, taking her arm in a soft hold with his hand, stopping her from escaping once again.

"We need to talk." Damon said.

"No, we really don't."

He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her tighter to him, ultimately making her glad they weren't in the hall where people could witness it. "Why are you being like this?" he demanded.

"Because it's easier," she answered truthfully, pulled her arm from his clutch and walked away. That was the second time in the same week she had walked away from the thing she wanted most.

Elena let a sigh escape the moment she was safe behind the locked door of her apartment with the lights flickered on. When had everything gotten so complicated? She already knew the answer; Damon Salvatore.

She would argue that her life has always been complicated, but the truth was, she didn't view everything that had happened to her as complicated.

Hard? _Possibly._

Unfortunate? _Definitely._

If Damon wasn't in the picture, things would be simple. She had fed him the excuse that 'it was complicated' to which he made the assumption she was talking about her and Frank, but her situation with Frank wasn't complicated. Things were actually quite simple with Frank. He would act like a dick, 'deal' with her when necessary and ignore her when they weren't in the public eye. Sometimes he even ignored her then. Maybe it was because she had gotten used to Franks ways, but Damon? He scared her; he made her want things, made her heart beat faster than it had for years. _He_ complicated things.

Elena unhooked the clasps of the silk dress located on each of her shoulders and let it fall into a pool at her feet, quickly stepping out of it and making her way to the bathroom clad in only her underwear that matched the exact colour of the dress, she shivered at the cold draft the bathroom always produced.

Gathering the thick mass of brown curls she had arranged for tonight's business party into a bun on top of her head and removing her makeup, she wondered how long Frank would be gone and why he would rather her stay away from his family than go with him, where he would be able to keep an eye on her. It seemed odd to her. Frank was the most possessive and controlling non- fiancé she had ever come across, not that she had ever been in a fake engagement before, yet he was willing to leave her for what she assumed would be an entire week alone. However, he was right about the chance of someone recognizing her. She hadn't been back there since Frank whisked her away four and half years ago. Back then she didn't understand why he would just up and leave his family behind, but soon she came to understand that it was just so he could convince people she was his fiancée without them actually knowing who she was, what she used to be; 'a fresh start' as he called it.

She exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and proceeding towards the king-sized bed where she knew without a doubt she would sleep soundly tonight.

* * *

><p>Elena woke readily to the warm glow of the sunshine, the bed sheet wrapped in the exact same fashion around her body as it had been when she fell asleep; making her doubt she had moved at all for the entire night.<p>

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and shuffled forward until her feet met the floor. While rising to a stand, she checked the time on her bedside clock to discover it was a little past 8. Unfortunately, it was no longer the weekend therefore she had work. As long as she hurried, she would be there on time. Suddenly becoming aware of the small weight around her neck, she brought her hand up to touch the large heart pendant she had forgotten was there and realization struck her that she had indeed slept with it on. Naturally unclasping it at the back of her neck, she lowered it onto her bedside table and set off to get ready for work.

Her estimations had been correct, she arrived on her floor at Miller and Anderson just after a quarter to nine, her long hair perfectly cascaded into curls and her smart, tight-fitted black dress with nude pumps making her want to give herself a pat on the back for accomplishing it in half an hour.

"Morning," Elena greeted Andie, who was already situated at her desk.

"Morning, Sunshine." Andie beamed in return.

Elena chuckled while slipping around her own desk, dropping her bag to the floor and taking her seat. "Someone's extra chipper today." Elena commented.

"I had a good weekend." Andie replied.

"Oh, yeah?"

Elena couldn't stop the nagging curiosity of why exactly she had had such a good weekend. Obviously she knew Andie had a good time on Friday, but an entire 'good weekend'? It _had_ to have something to do with Damon. Furthermore, she couldn't stop the feeling of jealousy triggered by the idea of Andie and Damon sleeping together again. Before she could dig any deeper, there was a call of her name directly from Frank in his office.

Even as she entered Frank's office, she couldn't shake the forming picture in her mind of Damon returning to Lloyds after she had rejected him and picking up with Andie. Then spending the entire weekend under the expensive Egyptian sheets of his bed…

Now she really needed to remove the images from her head, or burn them out.

"I'm leaving on Wednesday morning," Frank informed her dryly. "Do you need anything while I'm gone?"

"No," Her quick reply made him look up and set his pen down on the desk.

"In that case, I'll be back a week later." He revealed.

Elena gave a small nod. "Okay, have a good trip."

She slowly turned on her heel and went out the same way she came in. It wasn't until she was back at her desk did she think about the fact that she would be alone, and not to mention free, for an entire week. What would she do with herself? She couldn't help but wonder.

The idea that presented itself to her was one she would never repeat, out-loud or in her own head, ever again. And one she certainly wouldn't put into action.

"So… what happened that made your weekend so good?" Elena queried in a desperate act to not think about what she shouldn't be thinking about doing.

"I met someone." Andie confessed.

She met someone. That was much better than; 'me and Damon ended up having wild, passionate sex all weekend'.

"That's great." Elena said.

"Yeah, he just came up to me in Lloyds and we sort of hit it off, spent the whole weekend together."

"Putting out on the first meeting, huh? My kind of girl," A new voice arrived.

Both Elena and Andie turned to meet the person responsible for honing in on their conversation with such a comment. Not even wanting or expecting a reply, Damon breezed past, making no effort to look at Elena and disappeared into Frank's office.

"Ass," Andie scoffed.

Okay, so maybe she deserved the cold treatment, she had told him that it was easier if things were that way, still, she couldn't say it didn't hurt her feelings.

Even on his return back through, he let his gaze wander to Andie for a moment before fixating it upon the corridor ahead, allowing it nowhere near Elena. He was being ridiculous, and childish. How could he just ignore her after everything he said to her on Friday? She would understand if he kept his distance, but completely ignoring she existed? That was taking it to the extreme.

"Andie, could you hold the fort for me? I just have something I need to do." Elena requested hurriedly, stood from her chair and tailed his disappearance down the corridor and into the elevator. Undoubtedly he was already in his office by now, which was a relief. She didn't want to have a slanging match in the middle of a floor.

Not even bothering to knock, she pushed open the door to his office and slipped inside, quietly shutting it behind her. By the look on his face, he was surprised to see her. She had been angry; she had planned on giving him a piece of her mind on how immature she thought he was being. But now he was stood right in front of her, his black suit jacket discarded, resulting in the sensual reveal of his rippling torso under the slight see-through white shirt, her anger was nowhere to be found.

"Can we talk?" Elena asked softly.

He shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle. "So, now you want to talk?"

"Yes," a simple reply was all she seemed able to give.

"Well, I don't." Damon told her. "So, if you don't mind," he moved towards her, aiming to take hold of the door handle but she interrupted it.

"It doesn't have to be like this." She tried.

"Really? Because I think you made it _exactly_ like this." He argued.

She was trying her best not to think about how close he actually was to her and concentrate on doing what she came here to do; talk. "No," she blew out exasperated. "I was just trying-

"To what? Lead me on? Make me think you felt something when you don't?"

"But I do feel something!" she probably couldn't have stopped it tumbling from her mouth even if she wanted to.

His face softened at her revelation and a small feeling of success found her, only to disappear a moment later as the frustration returned in his face and he backed away. "You could've fooled me."

Disappointment overwhelmed her and she cast her eyes to her floor. "I'm trying here, Damon."

"Well, welcome to the club." He spat out, throwing his arms out wide and just as quickly returning them to hang at his sides. "What do you think I've been doing for months? Trying, trying and trying to get in."

"Is that what sleeping with Andie was?" Her eyes found his, the surprise evident in the sky blue.

Damon took a few moments. "No, you know what? That was just me being an ass." He willingly admitted. "But I'm not the one playing games."

"And I am?"

"You tell me."

Elena sighed, running a hand through her hair and pushing herself away from the door. "I'm gonna go,"

"No, you wanted to talk, so let's talk." He was back, a mere inches from her with his hand against the door, effectively stopping her from leaving. "Come on, Elena. What do you want to talk about?"

Just the thought of what she would find when her gaze lifted was enough to make her quiver, if the intoxicating smell of his skin and cologne mixed wasn't already enough, not to mention the warmth radiating from his body. She wanted him to kiss her, to ravage her right here in his office and she hated herself for it. She didn't want to ruin his life just because she couldn't get her desire under control.

"Elena," his voice was softer now and it almost made her want to look at him, _almost_. "Look at me." he urged.

"I can't," Elena replied weakly.

Not accepting it, Damon placed the forefinger of his free hand on the under-side of her jawline and forced her face upwards, their eyes finally meeting and their lips dangerously close. Her breath hitched and the sudden realization that this moment told them everything they needed to know or understand dawned on her.

Through a burst of urgency and desperate passion, Elena hooked onto the back of his neck with one hand and united their lips in a crushing and searing kiss. It was like finally quenching a nagging thirst that had been building for months. She had a small taster of it in Paris, but it hadn't been enough.

She felt his one hand intimately cup her face, while the other found its way to the small of her back and pulled her body tight to his, allowing her to appreciate every line and curve. Too preoccupied with the feel of his tongue slowly tracing her bottom lip, before it found its way into her mouth, along with the excitement that welled within her as she was pulled from the door by his hands to her waist and taken further into the office, she could care less that they were in the same building as Frank. All she cared about was the feel of his body setting hers on fire. Quickly spinning them around, Damon guided her backwards until the desk made contact with her backside and she instinctively removed her hands from their exploration of his body, laid them flat on the desks surface behind her and hopped up onto it, breaking their kiss for a moment.

Damon stood before her, drinking in the lust-filled expression and redden lips she knew she wore, then his mouth was attacking hers again, his tongue searching for access back into her mouth as his hands roamed the entirety of her body. He let out a groan at the restriction her tight black dress was creating between them, wound both hands around her waist and skilfully dragged the zipper down, leaving it fall slack around her upper-body. She didn't know why he didn't just push the bottom of her dress up, but she hoped it was because he wanted to see every part of her.

Peeling the second skin dress from her body and down her legs, finally dropping it to the floor, Damon shot a predatory look as he trailed her half-naked body. She was sat there, vulnerable and exposed in her black lacy underwear set, searching his eyes as they raked the length of her body.

He swiftly took his place between her legs, running both hands torturously slow over the curves of her breasts held in the black cup of her bra, up to her collarbones, her neck and finally through the thick tresses of her hair, eventually pulling her lips back to his.

Elena raked her fingernails up his back, feeling the smooth material of his shirt crumple beneath the harsh movement, before manoeuvring them to the front to clumsily undo each button. Once successful, she pushed it off his shoulders and arms, allowing it to fall in a heap on the floor next to her dress, and dragged her lips from his to admire the smooth planes of his torso, the perfectly defined muscles pleading for touch.

"Damon?" a voice called from directly outside the office door.

_Oh, shit._


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors note: **So here it is! the chapter after the cruel way I left you last time! haha :) I can't thank everyone enough for the amazing reviews, it really means everything to me. So here's chapter 9! I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think! xxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>9<strong>

"_When we're apart, it's easier. It hurts every day, but I live with it. And now you're right here… and I can actually reach out. It's more than confusing, it's unbearable." – __**Angel.**_

They looked to one another then at the door. He had been so caught up in the throes of passion for her that he didn't make out the voice properly, he was just happy the door wasn't glass; otherwise he would be in big trouble right now.

"Damon?"

Damon would recognize that voice anywhere.

"Uh, kind of busy here, Stefan," Damon called back, uneasy, yet relieved it wasn't Frank.

"Why is the door locked?" Stefan queried. He felt her instantly relax next to him at the revelation of the door being locked. Always be prepared, that's what the scouts teach you.

"Because I'm busy,"

"Doing what?"

"Masturbating,"

He watched as Elena brought a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter, and couldn't help but become transfixed by her all over again. Still attired in only underwear, her lips swollen from his desperate kisses and her hair dishevelled, she looked like a dream. He only hoped it wasn't. Or if it was, he wanted it on instant replay.

"Are you serious?" his younger brother exclaimed from the corridor. Damon could just picture his face, it was enough to make him chuckle with her.

"Deadly." Damon answered.

He waited a few seconds to ensure Stefan was definitely gone from outside the door before turning back to Elena, her expression not what he was expecting. Instead of regret or guilt washing her features, it was excitement, she was practically glowing. Reaching across and running the pad of his thumb along the width of her cheekbone, his eyes never leaving hers even as she placed her hands on his waist and eagerly pulled him to her, returning his body to its place between her legs as she remained upon the desk. A breathy moan falling from both their lips as his erection pressed against her core. He searched her face for any doubt, but found none. Leaning in to place a kiss to her lips, solely intending on it being soft but the moment he received one taste of her, he couldn't control the overwhelming need to have every piece of her. He slipped his tongue into the welcoming confines of her mouth and greedily ran his fingers over every part of bare skin he could access.

She ran her hands down his torso, eliciting a small moan from his throat, much to her fulfilment, before hooking her slender fingers onto the belt of his pants and unfastening it in record time. Popping open the button and dragging down the zipper, the same noise erupting as the one that sounded had from her dress, Elena fumbled to lower his pants, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.

Breaking their heated kiss, Damon swore under his breath and immediately missed the feel of her legs as they disentangled from their strong vice circulating his hips. Most days no one ever darkened his doorway, and now that he was practically mating with Elena, on his desk, every Tom, Dick and Harry was coming along to enjoy the show.

"What?" Damon demanded in exasperation.

"You wanted me to remind you about the documents due at 10:30?" Rose reminded him timidly through the door.

Damon sighed. "Yes, thank you, Rose."

Once again, he awaited the disappearance of the _unfortunate_ interruption, and turned back to Elena.

"As much as I hate to say this," He began. Emphasis on the _hating._

"But we can't do this," Elena finished off, hopping down from the desk, her ragged breathing still apparent, along with his own.

"Right," he reluctantly agreed. The false hope that she would feel no regret in relation to current occurrences between them caused him to fall even deeper into a pit of disappointment, and he took a step back, bending to retrieve her discarded dress from the ground. How was he going to get past this? They almost just had sex, and he was supposed to what? Just forget about it?

Elena accepted her black dress from his clutches and quickly stepped into it, all unabashed and feelings completely controlled by desire vanished. He could even see the red flush of her skin, she was embarrassed?

Once she was perfectly secured back inside her dress, she looked at him, her eyes suddenly distracted by his remaining half naked torso and low hung pants, reminding him that he should get situated into his suit for the second time this morning.

"At least… not here anyway," She peered around the office.

His disappointment rapidly became void from his features at the possibility of her suggestion. Was she actually saying what he thought she was saying? He hadn't imagined it had he?

Damon gazed at her in disbelief, forgetting his body was still half-naked. "You mean…" he trailed off, his eyebrows in anticipation.

Her head produced a quick nod in response, no wavering or uncertainty detectable.

"When?"

"Frank leaves on Wednesday."

Elena smoothed down the current disarray of her hair, caused by the insistent drag of his fingers through the chocolate tresses and approached him.

"Wednesday?" he echoed, much too dazed that this was actually going to happen to grumble about the detail of having to wait an entire two days to have her.

"Wednesday," She confirmed, the sweet smell of her skin, perfume and hair enveloping his senses when she finally came to a stop in front of him.

"Okay."

"Okay."

In all expectancy, he thought she would turn on her heel and leave, but when she rose up ever so slightly on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss to his lips, he was glad she hadn't.

Animal instinct told him to deepen it, but he knew if they started all over again, he would never let her leave. Therefore, he pried his hands from their frame on her face and watched her leave, shutting the door silently behind her.

Wednesday seemed like an eternity away. No, make that ten eternities away.

Hopefully, the taster he just received would make these two days bearable, or it might make it worse. He'd soon find out.

It was almost unbelievable; their conversation had taken a complete rotation, and hit the accelerator in the opposite direction of his original predictions made when she turned up in his office unannounced.

He had expected a huge fight. That was certainly how it started, former to the long awaited revelation of her feelings, the painful soften of her features and her threat to leave. He couldn't let her walk out of his office. A whole weekend of no contact was almost torture. He should have been used to the up's and down's, the hot and cold, but he wasn't. Nor had he felt the pained rejection any less when she left him on Friday night.

It was probably his own fault, he had specifically said, 'I don't care if we do nothing' and made a silent promise that he would let her make the first move. And what did he do the second he got her inside his apartment? Answer; practically jump on her. _Good one, Salvatore._

True, his pride had been wounded. And also true, he immaturely ignored her to give her a taste of her own medicine. Lucky for him, she would never take anything lying down. So in the matter of half an hour, the tables had completely turned over; to his extreme advantage, might he add. They had gone from passionately fighting to tearing each other's clothes off.

Damon groaned internally. Just the reminder of the feel of her skin under his fingers was painful. He could guarantee the next two days were going to be _hard_; in more ways than one.

Picking up his shirt from the floor and shrugging into it, he peered around the office, checking for anything out of place while refastening each button, and found nothing. He hadn't noticed the arrival of his younger brother until his voice broke the silence of the office. "Finished, have you?"

Ah, at least he had good timing now. He would serve as a satisfactory distraction from the excruciating thoughts fresh in his mind of Elena, in her underwear, on his desk. After all, if there was one thing he enjoyed more than sex and Elena, it was annoying his brother.

"Not as much as I would've liked to." Damon muttered.

"What?"

Damon shook his head and dropped onto the office chair. "Nothing," he answered clearly, delving his fingers together and resting them upon his chest. "So, what can I do for you little brother?" he asked in the most cheerful tone Stefan, and himself had ever heard fall from his mouth. Quickly providing evidence of exactly that was Stefan's surprised expression that soon transformed into a suspicious eyeing of his old brother as he took a seat on the chair across from Damon.

"Masturbating really does make people happier."

"You should try it sometime." Damon suggested, to which Stefan grimaced.

"Can we _not _discuss our penises right now? It's disturbing enough that I almost walked in on it."

Damon gave out a chuckle. "Mom used to bathe us together; I think we're past any shyness."

"We were kids."

"So? I bet you've still got the same size penis you had back then."

"That's it. I'm leaving."

Stefan stood from the chair and disappeared out the doorway, ignoring Damon's amused protests for him to come back.

Damon twisted his wrist to gain access to the silver face of his watch; discovering exactly _five minutes_ had passed. Five minutes? He was sure it had been more like twenty. Surely, the universe owed him more than a measly five minutes for out-witting Stefan; he even threw in a penis joke. Huffing impatiently, he leaned back in the chair and eyed the ceiling with an inclined head. Seemingly, he couldn't get by for ten minutes, never mind two whole days.

* * *

><p>Damon woke to the piercing ring of his cell phone excelling from the leather sofa on the other side of his apartment where he had haphazardly tossed it in his drunken stupor last night, even though he had work this morning. Still, he couldn't resist getting drunk off his favourite bourbon stash. It was the only solution to his problem, the only other option would have been to have mindless sex with some stranger, but alas, he no longer felt the urge to sleep with anyone but her.<p>

The events of last night ran through him like a stampede. He had purposely stayed in the apartment in order to avoid waking up with a woman, or several, he also hadn't wanted to wake with any regrets so in his apartment he stayed. What he _should have _done was insist Stefan confiscate his phone because even remaining within the safe confines of his apartment didn't stop him from drunk-dialling Elena.

He groaned outwardly once deciding that it wouldn't surprise him if her decision was swayed in regards to today. He had only had _one more day_ left to wait, yet he still couldn't stop himself from getting drunk to ease the tension. Not that it mattered anymore if she had changed her mind. His memory didn't fail him with the reminder of making the phone-call, it did, however, draw a blank on what he said down the phone. Knowing him, it was nothing to be proud of.

Rolling over and climbing from the bed, Damon followed the painful ring of his cell phone, picked it up and held it to his ear without bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hello?" he gruffly responded down the phone.

"_That was a lovely phone call you gave me last night." _Stefan's voice returned.

Damon groaned. "Oh god. Not you too,"

"_What do you mean? Who else did you call?"_

"No-one," He answered quickly. "What is it?"

"_Oh, nothing, I just thought since you so kindly woke me up at one in the morning, I'd return the favour." _

"You're a dick." He stated.

"_Runs in the family," _Stefan chimed before abruptly ending the call.

Following suit, Damon hung up the phone, tossed it back onto the sofa and headed straight for the shower. God, he hoped he hadn't called anyone else.

* * *

><p>Crossing onto the 42nd floor and smoothing his suit jacket, Damon did his best <em>not<em> to look like he had drained an entire sea of alcohol last night, even though he probably had.

"How's it going?" Stefan queried once falling into step beside his travel down the corridor.

Damon groaned. "I've got a bitch of a hangover."

"That's unfortunate." Stefan replied, no sympathy whatsoever evident in his voice.

"You know what else is unfortunate?" Damon swiped the pen he carried in his suit jacket and held it up for Stefan to see. "The severe pain you'll have in your arm when I jab this into it if you even _think_ about winding me up today."

"So you can do it, but I can't?"

"I'm the eldest. What I say goes."

"Yet you don't act like it."

They both shot one another a glare before separating into opposite offices. Silently closing the door behind him, Damon took a seat behind his desk and sighed. _What had he said to Elena?_

Since racking his brain for the inaccessible memory was once again unsuccessful, the only thing he could do is find her, apologize and hope anything he said wasn't enough to make him want to dig a very large hole and live in it until he died. He could only hope.

* * *

><p>For what felt like a rare occasion lately, Damon managed to get some work done for most of the day before finally deciding to go up a floor, and find Elena. Or if he was honest, he was putting off seeing her until he gathered his courage and left his office.<p>

Proceeding along the corridor of the 43rd floor, he couldn't help but feel like he was walking into the lion's den. It was funny, hardly anything scared him; it never had. Then she came along. He couldn't stand to lose her, to even walk away. It wasn't an option anymore. He was in too deep. While reaching the location of Elena and Andie's matching PA desks, his body reacted to the very idea of seeing her, forcing him to realise how much he needed to get it together.

And there she sat, all perfectly curled chocolate hair, doe eyes and pouted lips. Fortunately for him, Andie was not present at her desk. He rested his folded arms on the high level of the desk and leant forward. "Hi,"

Elena looked up at him and smiled. At least she wasn't mad. "It's my midnight mystery caller."

"Yeah… I'm sorry about that."

"That's okay." She brushed off the apology, resting her chin on her hand. "It was quite enjoyable."

'Enjoyable'? Oh god, what had he done? Sang down the phone to her? "Don't remember, huh?" asked Elena, amused.

"Not a word." He finally confessed. "I remember making the call…"

"So you're here to ask me what was said,"

"Not specific details… but I mean, I didn't…" he cringed at the list of possibilities, none of them good.

"Make an ass out of your-self?" she finished off.

"Well, yeah."

"No, you were quite the gentleman."

The reassurance instantaneously caused his body to release from its tense composure, and then came surprise. Before he could get an elaboration, the interruption of Niklaus Smith, Frank's closest and only friend, who was also on the business's board of governors, prevented him from doing so.

"Elena," Niklaus greeted her silkily, enough to make Damon nauseous.

"Mr Smith," Elena returned.

"Please, call me Klaus." He told her. "Frank called me for a meeting?"

"He's in his office waiting." She revealed pleasantly, to which Klaus responded with a subtle wink and made his way into Frank's office.

An alien feeling overcame Damon, and it took a few moments before he realized what it was; jealousy. He was jealous? Damon Salvatore, the man who barely cared enough to feel such an emotion, was jealous. This was definitely new. But then again, since he was scared to lose her, it made sense that jealousy would overwhelm his senses when another man shamelessly flirted with her. Yet, he wasn't jealous of her and Frank. Possibly because he knew she didn't love him, and he hoped they didn't have any kind of sexual interaction.

"Where were we?"

"I have to go." He revealed abruptly.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you wanted to talk?"

"No, I have to go." Damon turned on his heel and returned the way he came.

Truthfully, he didn't have to go anywhere, but the idea of her sleeping with Frank was like system overload. Had he really just ruined his own chances with Elena just because he stupidly let his mind wander to the image of her sleeping with Frank?

As rapidly as possible he returned to the safety of his office, desperately attempting to block out his new-found curiosity. A curiosity that lasted the entire day, no matter what he did; convincing himself that of course they don't have sex, they barely even like each other, or so he assumed. Or the reminder that tonight he would have exactly what he had been waiting months for, even running the image of her attired in only underwear didn't seem to work. All that did was made him wonder if Frank saw her like that. God, he was driving himself to a brink of insanity. He took the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, in hope that the intense throbbing in his head and the fatigue that threatened to make him fall asleep in the chair would ease. But of course, it didn't.

You would think by the countless hangovers that plagued his body over the years, it would have developed some kind of resistance. The way he felt right now, proved otherwise.

He couldn't decide whether just seeing her was a good or bad thing. It had put his mind at ease about the phone call but instead, it was filled with images of Frank and Elena, their naked bodies writhing together. It was enough to trigger his gag reflex.

Erratically shaking his head and passing both hands over his face before slipping into his suit jacket, he decided it was in his best interest that he didn't see her, not yet anyway, he needed a few hours.

He didn't like not seeing her, but not seeing her, those big brown eyes, the lips… it was easier. He found that whenever he was around her, he would be overcome with urges, not solely because of sex; he wanted to be able to reach out and touch her face, kiss her just because he felt like. Then he would have to remind himself that she wasn't his. Right now, he couldn't afford to be controlled by it; he needed to think about things, about whether he could actually do this. Could he have sex with her, but never be able to call her his own?

Shutting off the lights and leaving his office, he wondered how he had become a 'thinker'. He was Damon Salvatore, he acted on impulse; he didn't consider things. And here he was, avoiding a chance at sex because he didn't want to share? But it wasn't just that, with any other woman he wouldn't care if they were married with ten kids, yet with her, he only wanted her for himself.

She had admitted she didn't love Frank, so why hadn't she left him by now? Because she was trapped? He asked himself every single day since Paris how she could possibly be trapped, did Frank have something on her? Or was it for the money, the security?

He immediately doubted it was the money. From the moment he met her and placed a chaste kiss upon her hand, he knew she was the type of woman who didn't care about money in the slightest.

Just as he advanced down the corridor in the direction of the elevators, a call out of his name came from behind. Cautiously whirling around on the spot, allowing his eyes to meet with the brown ones he had only minutes ago decided he would purposely avoid, Damon dreaded to think what she would have to say, most importantly he dreaded to wonder if he would be able to turn her offer down.

With the elevators behind him, he wondered where she had appeared from. As if reading his mind, Elena pointed a thumb over her shoulder towards the stairs located down the other side of the corridor and continued towards him. "The stairs,"

"Right," He gave a nod of his head.

Coming to a stop directly in front of him, her eyes burning into his, he doubted he would have the strength to tell her he needed some time before jumping into bed with her. "Can we talk?" Elena requested.

"I think I should probably go." His voice wavered from its firmness and he turned back towards the gold glow of the elevator doors.

"Damon," She stepped to his side, her eyes still tracing his face. "Did something happen? I mean, Monday…"

He almost winced at the hint of sadness evident in her voice. What was he doing? Being a complete idiot, that's what he was doing. She was finally agreeing to what he had been suggesting for months and he was getting all sensitive and immature over her relationship with Frank. "I just need some time." He revealed, turning to meet her once again.

"You're blowing me off." It wasn't a question.

"What? No-

Elena let out a frustrated sigh, followed by a bitter chuckle. "I knew it. I knew this was because I was off-limits."

"Elena-

She swiftly backed away, her aim towards the stairs obvious. Before he could intercept and provide some kind of explanation, she had disappeared through the single door that led to the stairs and it swung to a shut with a slam. The urge to mentally kick him-self marginally grew into physical as he stepped inside the arrived elevator and landed on the theory that he had just completely ruined any chance he had with her. Or could he change it? Nevertheless, he felt like he had no choice but to go after her. Acting purely on impulse, he returned through the still opened elevator and bolted towards the door Elena had disappeared through only minutes earlier. He slipped through and ascended the stairs as quickly as possible, eventually closing in on the soft clipping of her heels against the laminate floor barely ahead of him.

"Elena!" he shouted after her, in hope she would stop. However, by the continuous harsh impact of her heels against the stairs, he knew she hadn't, and he didn't doubt she was angry. Eventually he caught up to her just as they reached the 28th floor, effectively pulling her to a stop with a grab to her forearm, the rest of her body naturally snapping around to face him.

He planned on explaining, admitting the truth, but now that he had her a mere inches from him, the passion raging in her eyes along with the anger, her lips parted slightly and her chest heaving, the only thing he wanted to do was taste her. Latching onto the back of head and crashing his lips to hers, the doubts and fears he felt quickly replaced by the uncontrollable need for her. Her quick response consisted of her arms snaking around his neck, her lips parting in an invite for his tongue to slide along her own and her body melding to his; to all which he happily accepted. He moved them until her back hit the wall, and let his hand wander down the lines of her perfect body, only stopping when he was met with the hem of her tight black skirt. The small moan that left her mouth as he pulled the white vest from the restrictions of the skirt and explored the flesh of her navel before moving to cup her breast only egged him on further. Retrieving his hand from under the material, along with the other that was delved in the tresses of her hair, he manoeuvred the straps of her vest off her shoulders to reveal the equal curve of both breasts held in the white lace bra.

He hooked his fingers into the flimsy material, successfully releasing the entire breast with one pull downwards and lifted his eyes to burn with hers before returning his attention to her breast that begged for his expert affection and finally closed his mouth over the nipple, sucking it until a moan flowed from her lips and her fingers dove into his raven hair. Running his tongue around the outline of her nipple then taking it between his teeth to leave a soft nibble, he could barely ignore the painful throbbing of his erection trapped inside his black pants. If he didn't stop, he wouldn't be able to _not_ ravage her right here on the floor.

"Damon…" Elena breathed. God, he didn't think he would ever tire of hearing that. Finally managing to drag his mouth from its investigation of her nipple, he returned her bra to its rightful place, along with her vest and stood from his slightly bent composure, placing a soft kiss to her lips as he did. Although he hadn't anticipated her next move, he still managed to match it. She slipped her tongue into the warmth of his mouth and their tongues immediately set into motion; tasting, probing, dancing.

"I have to have you." He murmured against her lips.

A small nod of her head was all it took.

Grabbing her hand, Damon led her down what felt like an endless amount of steps, automatically releasing her hand as they crossed into the foyer, then regaining it when they finally reached the chill of the outside air. He came to a halt and turned to her. "You're sure?"

"Take me home with you."


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors note: **HELLO THERE. So this chapter was finished days ago but I really wanted to be able to provide you guys with two chapters at the same time, so since I'm almost done with chapter 11, here is chapter 10! Let me know what you think and thank you thankyou thank you X INFINITY for the reviews and favourites and everything. See you in a while crocodiles! xxxxxxxxx

**10**

"_I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you." – __**Pocahontas.**_

"Take me home with you."

If the words weren't enough, the look in her eyes gave him no doubt that she was indeed, sure. He gave a small pull to her hand still entwined within his own, to which she willingly responded, and fell into step beside him as they proceeded towards his apartment. Too enthralled with the fact that he would know what it feels like to have every physical part of her by the end of the night, he didn't bother to worry about the danger of them walking down the street holding hands like they were lovers, or actually in a relationship.

The moment they reached his apartment building, he could barely contain the urgency increasing with every second he had for her and her only, their fingers still fastened, he practically dragged her up the stairs, across the landing, fumbled into his pants pocket for his keys and pulled her inside the moment he unlocked it.

In a rushed frenzy, he had her against the closed door without a moment's pause, his fingers in her hair and his body trapping hers against the wood of the door. Mirroring his eagerness, Elena wove her arms around his neck and parted her mouth to allow his tongue that currently ran along the seam of her bottom lip entry. Allowing his hands to once again trail down her body and back up again, in one swift movement, he pulled the vest over her head and tossed it to one side, wasting no time in attacking the exposed flesh with his lips and tongue. Her fingers went into his hair, and her body arched against his as he wound his hands around her small frame and made quick work of undoing the zip of her pencil skirt, and watching as it fell to the floor at her feet. He traced every inch of her, the hunger coursing through his veins only increasing. Reuniting their burning flesh and lifting her up without effort, to which she instinctively encircled his waist with her legs, Damon turned and carried her deeper into the apartment until his knees made contact with the edge of his bed. Carefully lowering her onto the soft Egyptian sheets and covering her body with his own, he realised how clothed he actually was; entirely clothed. With her legs resting on either side of his hips, he ground against her core, emphasizing how much he actually wanted her and earned a delicious moan to surpass her lips before she started on undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. The warmth of her hands ran the length of his torso before pushing the shirt from his shoulders and throwing it to one side.

Manoeuvring his hand underneath her and unclasping the white bra, he watched as she shrugged out of it prior to taking one breast in his hand while capturing the nipple of her other breast in the warmth of his mouth. Another moan rolled from her and she arched up into his body, slowly tracing the lines of his chest and abs until her fingers found the button of his pants. Expertly unfastening it and dragging the zipper down to release the eager throb of his erection as she pushed the pants down his legs, Damon felt a small smile form on her lips as he moved up to place a soft kiss there, and guessed it was due to his lack of boxers.

He climbed down her body and to her obvious dismay, off the edge of the bed. He watched her prop herself up onto her elbows and eye him curiously until he fully removed his pants, then the realization dawned on her, followed by a hungry dart of her pink tongue along her bottom lip as she marked his fully exposed body. Damon knew he was big, but it still didn't fail to flatter him, especially coming from a woman as beautiful as Elena.

Simultaneously running his hands up each of her thighs to the white lace of her panties, hooking his fingers into the material and dragging them down her legs, he echoed the hunger found plastered on her stunning features at the sight of her entirely exposed before him. He crawled back up her body and took her in for another mind-numbing kiss while running a hand down her newly exposed flesh, only stopping when his fingers discovered the soft texture of her clit.

Running tantalizing slow circles into the bundle of nerves before intensifying the pressure, then back again, and using his free hand to knead her breast, he couldn't help but want to take her to heaven and back. He cared about satisfying women, he always had. He wasn't one of those men who only cared about getting off themselves. But he didn't think he had ever wanted to try so hard to make sure he satisfied her. Everything was so different with her. Finally moving his fingers from their skilled work on her clit and plunging one into her tight, wet heat, he couldn't prevent the groan from spilling out. Swiftly adding another once he was sure her walls had adjusted to the intrusion, he worked her into the frenzy he knew he was capable of creating with just the work of his fingers. The soft moans and pants of his name elicited from her perfect lips gave him all the information he needed. With slow and careful movements, Damon shifted until the tip of his erect penis was nudging her core and his forehead was lightly resting against hers.

His eyes glued to her expression as he slid inside her, the invitation of her parted lips was too much to resist therefore he dove his tongue into the heat of her mouth while he filled her entirely and their groans mixed together in a heated kiss. The way her walls stretched yet eagerly accepted his thick length, he knew without a doubt, he was her first since, well, he didn't know how long, but he was sure she wasn't sleeping with Frank.

He moved his kisses to her neck and moaned against the skin there when he felt her purposely clamp her walls around him, urging him to move. Starting with slow, erotic thrusts in and out of her, that soon became quick and frenzied in response to her breathless moans and the encouraging dig of her bare heels into the curve of his backside. Plummeting harder and faster into her and intimately delving their fingers together in a hold at one side of her head, he felt the approach of his release and by the desperate cling of her limbs around him, along with the increased amount of moans, so was she.

"Damon," The tender way she voiced his name, made him pull his face from its rest against her neck and look her in the face. His breath almost caught at the sight of her; the chocolate curls billowed around her face, her deep brown eyes almost black with desire, her cheeks flushed and her lips reddened. She was sheer perfection, and she was here, with him.

Floating into a sky filled with ecstasy, another moan erupted and he knew she had fallen over the edge, which he closely followed behind, spilling inside her. She looked at him with hooded eyes, a sated and drunken smile on her lips once their breathing had eventually evened out. Damon slipped out of her, and gave out a chuckle when she groaned at the loss. Removing his body from its cover of hers and landing on his back beside her, pushing the sheets down as he did and pulling the silk over their naked flesh.

"Damon?"

"Hmm-mm"

"Was it just about the sex?" Elena asked quietly.

He rolled onto his side, and propped himself up on one elbow, to which she shortly followed suit. "What?"

"I mean, is this it? Now that you've had me…" She trailed off.

"Do I not want you anymore?"

"Yeah," She confirmed.

"You couldn't be farther from the truth." He lifted his hand and ran a feather light touch of his fingers along her cheekbone.

She smiled, followed by a small nod of acceptance before shifting closer until her body was flush against his and leaned in to provide him with a kiss he would never forget. Her lips eagerly parted for his tongue to slip in along hers and he couldn't help but become convinced he would in fact never get enough of her. Not in this life, or the next. He felt her fingers tangle in his hair and a soft, satisfied sigh fall into his mouth as their tongues mated while he grew hard once more. Her leg hooked itself over his hip as he took a hold of hers, and with a slight shift of his body, he edged himself slowly and surely enough inside her wet, readied core to make the groan that he knew would fall past her pouted lips last until he filled her to the hilt. This time, it was slow and intimate as he thrust in and out of her, their eyes never unlocking and their fingers either entwined or exploring one another's naked flesh. Rolling on top of her, her free leg naturally joining the other to wrap around his hips, he broke their kiss and began a trail from her collarbone to her earlobe, which he took captive between his teeth and much to his fulfilment earned him another breathy moan. Returning back the way he came, this time furthering his open-mouthed kisses down until they found her breasts, and tenderly suckling the stiffened nipple into his mouth, not satisfied until she was writhing desperately beneath him. His thrusts still measured and intimate, ensuring every single one hit the spot within her, he realised this time it wasn't about the hurry to the finish line, it was about exploring every inch of one another, their bodies merging in a way his never had with another woman before. Snaking his hand between their sweat slicked bodies until his fingers slipped along her bundle of nerves and began their experienced work upon it; effectively coaxing her to the release he predicted was near. The moment she cried out and her walls clenched around him, it wasn't long before he earned his release. Moving back up to her face and placing a chaste kiss to her lips, Damon pulled out then returned onto his back.

She snuggled into his side and he wound an arm around his waist, to which she entangled her leg with his in response. "Is this okay?" She murmured, the warm breath slipping past her lips stroking at his bare chest.

"Is what okay?"

"This… us, cuddling,"

He breathed out a chuckle before placing a kiss to her forehead and replying. "Definitely okay,"

"Damon Salvatore likes to cuddle." An exhausted giggle came from her.

"Don't tell anyone, it could ruin my reputation." He teased.

Damon closed his eyes and fell into the most peaceful sleep he had in a long time.

* * *

><p>The light cast a heavenly glow into the large apartment, effectively stirring Elena from her deep slumber. Letting out a soft moan and fluttering open her eyes, the memory of last night came rushing back to her, causing her to scan her surroundings to prove she was in fact, in Damon's apartment, in his king-sized bed, under his Egyptian sheets, naked. She swallowed thickly and rolled over to find the side of the bed he fell asleep on, empty.<p>

Before she could wonder where he had got to, the digits from his bedside clock leapt at her. It was 10:13am, therefore Damon was at work. Luckily for her, she didn't have to go in for a whole week, since the person who owned her as a personal slave was away.

Torn between whether she should stay, or leave and go back to her own apartment, she tossed the covers aside and climbed from the large bed. Crossing the apartment, Elena vividly relished in the warm shine of the sunshine rays against her skin, and came to a sudden stop when she realised what the feeling that was coursing through her being; happiness. She hadn't felt genuinely happy for so long, she began to think she never would again. And now here she was, her soul on fire, intensely enough that she felt as though she held the power to consume anything and everything, and her body still feather-light from its multiple releases the night before. A small giggle escaped her and she held a hand to her mouth. She just giggled? The sound was so unfamiliar to her.

She continued on her journey to the bathroom, slipping past the door and finding it just as impressive as the rest of the apartment. After a few minutes of figuring out how to work the shower, she turned the heat on full blast and stepped under the harsh spray of water, closing the glass door behind her. Satisfied that it was indeed soothing the ache of her muscles and turning her back to the shower head, she inclined her head and welcomed the water through the length of her hair.

She couldn't resist granting her mind permission to wander her thoughts onto Damon. The taste of his tongue as it erotically played with hers, the expert work of his fingers probing her, the delicious feel of him inside her. She had had plenty of sex, but never sex like _that_. She had never been with a man who worked so hard to satisfy her, yet did it so effortlessly. Now she really did understand the fuss women made over him. Although it was completely mind-blowing, what made it so much better was intimacy. That was something she had never shared with anyone, it had always been about the sex, about the man's release, never her own. They had to be satisfied; it didn't particularly matter if she wasn't. Opening her eyes and checking around the walk-in shower, her body moving to an entire rotation in its search for shower gel, or soap that wasn't made especially for men. Eventually discovering an unused bar of soap and dragging it along every accessible part of her skin before allowing the hot water to rinse it completely. Deciding she probably wouldn't find shampoo she could make use of, Elena shut off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a fluffy white towel that hung over the metallic bar on the wall and wrapping it tight around her. She padded from the bathroom and into the main of the apartment, the jelly-like feeling in her legs evident now that her body seemed to have woken up. She wasn't exactly surprised her body was freaking out; it hadn't experience sex for so long it probably forgot how to deal with the aftermath.

She got re-situated into yesterday's clothes and let her hair dry to its natural wave, mentally praised herself for always carrying her makeup bag once it was perfectly applied on her face, slung her back onto her shoulder and checked the clock for the time; 11:43am.

A cab ride later, she was silently closing the door of her apartment and dropping her bag to the floor with a thud along with the clatter of her discarded pumps, before setting off into her apartment with tired steps of her bare feet. She flopped down onto her bed, the sheets billowing around the impact, and turned to take a peek at her own bedside clock to find it was just gone half past twelve.

Maybe she could sleep for six hours then figure out what to do about the 'Damon situation', if there was any situation. She didn't know where she stood now, was last night a one-time thing? Did she want it to be a one-time thing or did she want more?

_Oh, she definitely wanted more._

* * *

><p>Darkness had blanketed the sky and the moon had replaced the sun, causing Elena to proceed round the circumference of her apartment until each of the lamps were flickered on and an amber glow ran throughout. Since she had failed to sleep for six hours and settled for two, the day had been spent sorting the clutter of her apartment, which she successfully finished a half an hour before. Just as she returned from the bathroom, a knock sounded at the door and she couldn't contain the flip of her stomach. Quickly composing herself and smoothing down the dress shirt of Franks she strangely discovered mixed with her belongings a few hours prior to this moment, silently wishing she had gone to much more effort on her appearance. Still, her hair was falling nicely and her makeup was still intact, so she could only hope if the person at her door was who she hoped it was; he would find it sexy that she was attired in a man's shirt.<p>

Elena pulled open the door to reveal herself to the pair of blue eyes she hadn't seen for more than twelve hours, along with the crooked smile that held the ability to melt her insides and send a rush of arousal straight to her core. How was it possible that he turned her on just by standing there?

She stepped to one side and watched as he slipped through before pushing the door to a close.

"Don't you think this is a little dangerous?" queried Elena.

A soft chuckle came from his mouth. "Well, since you failed to be at my apartment, naked, waiting for me in my bed…" Damon moved towards her now, his composure mirroring a panther closing in on its prey. She was glad for the support of the door against her back; otherwise she might've fallen over. Resting his palms against the door on either side of her head, effectively trapping her in the brace created by his muscled arms, she swallowed thickly. She had decided that if she saw him, she would ask him what exactly they were doing, what this was between them but now that he was inches away, she could think of nothing other than reminding her senses what he tasted like, what his skin felt like against hers, how perfectly he fit within her.

"What happens now?" She said barely above a whisper.

"Well…" His eyes flashed followed by a suggestive rise of his eyebrows.

Trying her best to keep her composure even as he leaned close enough that their lips were almost touching, Elena forced her voice to come out strong. "Damon, I'm serious. What are we doing?"

The accidental contact her lips made with his as she spoke caused a tremble to jolt through her.

"I know what I want to do," he told her.

"And what's that?" She asked in a playful tone, to which he smiled mischievously.

"I," Damon leaned in to place a kiss to her nose, "want," then to the spot between her jaw and earlobe, "to spend," the start of her jaw, "the whole week," his murmurs against the skin of her jawline as he made his way along it caused an eruption of arousal within her, that screamed at her to tear his clothes off and allow him to ravage her on the wooden floor of her apartment, "with you." He finished, and wasted no time in finally pressing his lips to hers.

"The whole week?" she managed to get out between his persuasive kisses.

"The whole week," he confirmed before parting her lips with his tongue and delving it inside the confines of her mouth. While their tongues eagerly fought for dominance, his hand slipped down her body and under the dress shirt, finding her wet and ready for him as he cupped her through her panties. She gasped under her breath and arched her hips forward, widening her legs in order giving him better access as his fingers slithered under the material and skimmed a hard line along the length of her clit. He swallowed her moan of pleasure caused by the swift intrusion of his finger inside her wet heat and used his free hand to undo the shirt that flogged her tiny frame, carelessly letting it fall in a heap on the floor while his fingers pumped in and out of her, tempting her into orgasm.

She clenched around him and moaned loudly, her arms had somehow found their way around his neck and not for the life of her could she pinpoint when. Since her mind had been elsewhere.

Retrieving his fingers from her warmth and lifting her up, her legs went around him securing her body to his as he carried her in the direction of the bed and dropped her inaudibly onto the soft mattress. Joining her on the bed, Damon climbed into a hover over her, and smiled at the advantage of her bare breasts. Obviously it wasn't on purpose that she hadn't worn a bra but she was happy that her preference of not wearing a bra to bed saved time. Her body involuntarily arched off the bed when he closed his mouth over the peak of her nipple and her fingers went into the silk of his hair.

Just like the night before, she was almost naked while he was still fully clothed. She groaned impatiently at the inability to feel his flesh when she ran her hands down his torso and he took the hint, reluctantly dragged his mouth from its exploration of her body and shrugged out of his jacket then his shirt, and finally his pants.

Dragging her panties down her legs and tossing them to the floor, she watched as he started back up her body then suddenly came to a stop. Eyeing him curiously as he kissed along the inside of her thigh and ran a hand up the other, parting her as wide as he possibly could before leaning into the aching junction between her legs, instantly causing her to shoot up when it hit her what he planned on doing. "Damon, no-

"Ssh, it's okay." He assured and lowered her back down with a hand to her shoulder.

She bit into her bottom lip, dreading what was about to happen. No-one had ever done this to her, obviously, since she spent most of her life catering to the man's urges and needs, it was never about her or her pleasure. However, the moment his tongue ran along her wet folds, she knew this was something she regretted never having before. But then again, would any man do it as well as Damon Salvatore? She doubted.

Differing in the pressure applied against the bundle of nerves, just like he did with his fingers, along with the occasional dip of his soft tongue inside her, she squirmed recklessly and gripped at the sheets as another orgasm threatened to explode. The instant it came, she felt it through her entire body; her eyes rolled back into her head and her lids fluttered shut, her toes curled almost painfully and her fingers tightened their intense hold on the sheets of her bed.

Damon crawled back up her body, a satisfied smirk found on his lips when she finally managed to open her eyes.

"I rocked your world." He said matter-of-factly.

Elena burst into a giggle for a few long moments and finally managed to return her eyes to fixate with his. "Cocky much?"

"Very much," He replied velvety smooth.

* * *

><p>Damon woke with a start due to the loud volume of his alarm streaking from the bedside table. He released a groan and swiped the cell phone up, quickly clicking the snooze button before placing it back down upon the wooden table. He rolled over and took in the wonderful sight before him; Elena snuggled adorably into the bed with the sheets wrapped around her frame, her chocolate curls fanned out underneath her head and her expression was one he had never seen her wear before last Wednesday; happiness and complete peace. Extending his hand, he ran his fingers along the smooth skin of her face and watched as her eyelashes fluttered ever so slightly at the contact. Swinging his legs over the bed and planting his feet on the floor, he rose to a stand and allowed the sheet to fall from his naked body. He ran a hand over his face and through his untidy hair while making his way to the bathroom. It was officially Monday morning, the morning after an incredible weekend, the morning that stood two days away from the moment he and Elena would have to part ways. He couldn't even think about how he was going to do that. They had spent every possible moment together; Friday, she came to his apartment right after he finished work and spent the night here with him followed by the weekend that consisted of them lounging around the apartment, ordering take-out and having sex on any available surface. It was simple, yet everything he wanted, with the one exception that they couldn't be together, in any way, outside the confines of the apartment.<p>

After a quick ten minute shower, Damon was returning to the main of the apartment with a white towel wrapped tightly around his hips, where he had no doubt Elena was still sound asleep. Proving his prediction correct, a small smile formed on his lips before he set out on getting ready. He slipped into the black pants he had put out in preparation for this morning and fastened them easily, shrugged into his dress shirt, which he ensured was perfectly tucked into the top of his low hung pants once the buttons were done up, minus the top three. Grabbing his suit jacket and rounding the bed, he retrieved his cell phone from the bedside table and dropped it into his pants pocket while giving another longing gaze at Elena's still sleeping form. He moved back around until he made contact with her side of the bed, took a seat on the edge and softly rolled her over until she was facing him, and marginally awake.

"I'm going to work, baby." He revealed, brushing the free strands of hair from her face.

"No," she grumbled. His feelings mirrored hers; he didn't want to leave her as much as she didn't want him to. True, everything was moving so fast, a fly on the wall would assume they were a couple living together, but what was also true was that he didn't care, it didn't feel wrong or too fast; it felt exactly right. It had only been a few days, yet it felt like this was how it was meant to be, therefore they had no trouble adjusting to one another. Elena sat up, clutching the sheet to her body and forced her tired eyes open. "We only have two days left." She pointed out, the sadness in her doe eyes making his heart swell.

"I know," He replied softly.

Her gaze fell down and her head nodded weakly. He didn't know how he could possibly go back to the way things were before, and by the looks of it, neither did she. Cupping her face and lifting her eyes back to his, Damon wondered what it would feel like come Wednesday morning. Would it feel like his heart was being torn in two? Or was that feeling saved for when you were in love? Maybe it would feel like a limb or any vital part of him was being taken away. Or would it feel like it did after an amazing week spent away from home, or with different people to the usual kind, the way your heart sank and a huge cloud seemed to cast over you at the thought of coming back down to earth from the extreme high.

He should be asking her to leave Frank, to be with him, then he wouldn't have to dread the moment they would have to separate, but the truth was; he didn't want to ruin the week they had. He wanted everything to be perfect, for her to be happy.

"I'll see you after work?"

"You will." She confirmed with a smile.

He leaned in and placed a kiss to her lips which she happily returned, before getting up off the bed and heading for the door.

Thoughts of the precious time he had left with her ticking away plagued his mind for the entire day. Why did she have to be engaged to his boss? Why did she have to be engaged _at all_?

Damon traced the white ceiling of his office and rotated consistently in his chair out of sheer boredom and anxiety. Just as the wondering thought of where Stefan had been all day since he had barely seen him, his office door opened and in walked the devil himself.

"Ah, Stefan," Damon greeted his younger brother happily.

Stefan eyed him suspiciously before shutting the door and occupying his usual seat across from Damon. "You're weird." He commented.

"You're weird." Damon retorted.

"Okay, can we not fall into the game of who's the wittier brother?" Stefan requested in irritation.

Damon shifted from his relaxed position into a more serious one. Something was definitely going on, Stefan gets irritated, but never flustered. "What's going on?"

"So there's something I've needed to tell you about for, well, for quite a while now."

He watched his younger brother as he rose from the chair and began pacing the width of the office. "Stefan, will you calm down?"

"Frank offered me the job in Paris, to take over the firm there."

Damon stared blankly at Stefan, unsure whether he heard correctly. Frank offered Stefan the job of running the Paris branch? It made no sense, just like it made no sense when Frank offered him the chance to take over the entire business.

Then it clicked. This had nothing to do with Stefan being the best man for the job, it was all part of Franks game. He knew it. "Stefan, you can't accept that job offer."

"What? What do you mean I can't?"

Damon practically leapt from his chair, grabbed his suit jacket that was resting on the back of it and approached his brother. "Just trust me, alright?" he turned on his heel and abruptly left the office, his hurried travels taking him down the corridor as he scrolled through the contacts of his cell phone, finally landing on the one he desired.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, could you answer me something?" Damon queried down the phone.

"_Of course,"_

"Would Frank offer my brother a job in Paris as a ploy to keep me away from you?"

"_Damon, what's going on?"_

"Is he capable of it, Elena?" Damon urged with more force.

"_I don't know, maybe."_

It was all the answer he needed. Rapidly hanging up the phone and returning to his office to find a more than confused expression masking Stefan's features. People could argue that he was jumping to conclusions, and maybe he was, but he couldn't let Stefan accept that job offer and eventually go to Paris without being certain that it wasn't Frank's back-up threat to the one he had already given to Damon in order to keep him from Elena.

He shut his office door and turned back to his brother, marking the slight rise of his eyebrows as he awaited an explanation. Problem was; he didn't know if he could give him one yet. Not until he was certain of Frank's intentions.

"I'm guessing you want an explanation," Damon stated the obvious.

"Good guess," Stefan returned.

"And I will be happy to give you that… in a few days."

"A few days?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"Okay." Stefan accepted, much to Damon's surprise, slipped around him and headed for the door.

"Okay?" Damon echoed in disbelief, following his younger brother's quick retreat with his eyes.

He pulled open the door before turning back. "Yeah, it doesn't really matter if you give me an explanation now or next week, because I already took the job." Stefan revealed with a wide mischievous smile and left the room, leaving Damon wandering through heavy smog that consisted of shock and confusion.


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors note: **So I was going to make this chapter longer, but then I got to the part I finished on and realised it was a good place to stop. Without giving anything away before you read it, I just wanted to say that we havent seen Elena show any kind of meltdown or breakdown about her situation but now that she's got a taster of the life she wants or the life she could have but can't have it, I just wanted to show how she deals with the fact that she would have to give her time up with Damon the moment Frank returns. So here we go! let me know what you think! And also, I just wanted to point out that the quote at the beginning, which is one of my most favourite scenes of all time which breaks my heart into a million pieces, inspired me with that particular moment between Damon and Elena. HAVE FUN :D xxxxxx

**11**

"_How am I supposed to go on with my life, knowing what we had what we could've had?"_

"_No-one will know but me."_

"_Everything we did…"_

"_It never happened."_

"_It did, it did. I know it did. I felt your heartbeat. I'll never forget." _

_**- Angel.**_

"You took the job?" Damon exclaimed in disgrace once he had followed Stefan's lead.

Stefan, now situated comfortably on his own office chair that was an exact replica of Damon's, turned his wrist to examine the time on his silver watch but Damon knew he wasn't actually seeking it. "That took exactly fifteen seconds." He revealed and lifted his eyes to meet with Damon's angered set.

"How could you take the job? Did you hear nothing I just said?"

"Oh, the part about don't take the job or the trust you part?"

"Stefan," Damon said in a low, serious tone. "You can't go to Paris."

"Why? Because it's a great opportunity for me, because I'll actually be making more money than I do right now?"

"No, I just have a bad feeling about this, okay?"

Stefan took a moment before drawling out a sound of sudden realisation. "Is this because we'll be in completely different countries?" he sniggered.

"What?" Damon frowned, not catching on.

"You're going to miss me." Stefan voiced his theory.

"Yes, I don't want you to go because I will miss you, _oh so_ terribly." He said dryly with an added roll of his blue eyes. "Now will you stay?"

"Not a chance,"

Damon huffed petulantly. "How did you even accept the offer? Frank's away."

"I accepted it before he left." He explained.

"What? That was five days ago!"

"I _tried_ to tell you."

"When?" Damon's voice unconsciously rose in reaction to his frustration.

"When Andie called you in the elevator, when you were masturbating in your office, when you just couldn't let the penis joke go, when you-

"Alright! No need to get technical." He snapped, turned to leave the office before remembering there was something important he needed answered. "When did he offer it to you?" Damon queried.

"Before you left for Paris," Stefan revealed casually.

_He was afraid of that._

* * *

><p>Damon swung the apartment door to a slammed shut, and practically tore his suit jacket off his shoulders and flung it onto the back of one of the leather chairs located in the living area of his apartment.<p>

"Damon?" the sound of her voice coming from somewhere in the apartment caused the tension in his shoulders to immediately lessen. Then she appeared from the bathroom, clad in a small robe and his body eased completely. "I've been trying to call you all day, what's going on?"

He sighed and kicked off his shoes. "I think Frank's involving my brother in this," he motioned between them.

"But he doesn't know anything."

"He knows I want you, and by the unaffected reaction I gave in regards to his threat to take my job, which he was obviously prepared for, he had to have a back-up," he explained. "Guess this is his back-up plan."

Running a palm through his hair and proceeding towards the bed to flop lazily onto the soft mattress, Damon felt a plague of worries and thoughts possess him. Elena soon joined him on the bed, her hands wedged between her closed legs. "What are we going to do?" She asked in a small voice, her gaze remaining on the skin of her bare legs.

He blew out a harsh breath of air. "Honestly? I don't know."

It was the truth; he had no clue what he would do, or how he would solve this. But he had no choice but to figure it out, especially now his brother was involved. Still, he couldn't go ahead and figure it out until Frank was back from his hometown.

The escalation of her legs to a stand caught his attention, and there it remained as she moved across the apartment, allowing distance between them and dug both hands into her large black bag, pulling out a pair of her black leggings and a vest a few moments later. He already knew what she was doing, but still his mind wanted it confirmed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna go back to my apartment." She revealed while gathering her curled hair into a bum atop her head, causing the robe to rise slightly, giving him an even better view of her.

"Why?"

"Because I promised myself I wouldn't get you involved in this," she explained and took a step back when he stood from the bed and closed the distance she created between them. "And here you are, smack dab in the middle of it, and so is your brother now."

Damon cupped her face and revelled in the way she leaned into it. "This isn't your problem to fix."

Then she looked at him, her eyes full of remorse and sadness. "Yes, it is." her hand reached up to rest over his, took it in a grasp and kissed the palm before allowing it to fall away from her and turned to pick up the clothes she had set to one side only moments ago.

"Elena," He brought her to a stop with the block his body provided. Holding the similarity to the moment she threatened to walk out of his office, he couldn't let her leave.

"Please don't make this harder than it already is." She almost pleaded.

"It's already as hard as it possibly can be." Damon corrected, inching his body into a close proximity of hers which he knew would undoubtedly unnerve her, because it had the same sizzling effect on him.

If it wasn't such a serious conversation, he would have chuckled at the relation his comment had to his growing erection that had begun standing to attention ever since he got a peek at the black panties she wore under the robe. Not that it was true; he could definitely manage to get harder than he was at this very moment, and there was a few ways it was going to, all of them included her.

He leaned in ever so slightly for their lips to meet but not fully connect, his entire being to electrify at such a simple touch. "Not if we walk away now." She suggested, her lips catching his as she spoke.

"I can't walk away," he replied. "Can you?"

He didn't need an answer; her eyes told him the unspoken words.

Finally engaging their lips in a heated kiss that seemed to run through him and end at the tips of his toes, every nerve between burning with the same desire he felt each time they came together. He took her small moan as an invite to entangle their tongues in an erotic dance, his need for her taste equivalent to a man starving. She nipped at his lower lip and he broke from the kiss, dropping his line of sight to her robe-covered breasts and eventually pushing the material apart to expose her body. As he ran his eyes, and hands, over every inch of her, she rid him of his shirt and began working on his pants.

Before she was done, he seized her into his arms, dragging her towards the bed and lowering both their bodies onto it. Damon held himself up with the aid of his elbows, effectively drinking her in, the dishevelled hair, the lust-filled eyes. She unexpectedly reached up and traced the side of his face with a simple touch of her fingers and smiled. Allowing him to stumble onto the realization that he wouldn't be able to let her leave on Wednesday, that he wouldn't be able to let her leave ever, not unless she convinced him it was what she wanted.

* * *

><p>"Why do you stay with him?" Damon asked softly, running the tips of his fingers along the length of her bare back as she fit perfectly into the side of his equally naked body, her arm strewn across his chest and her leg entangled with his. She took a moment to lift her head from its rest on his chest and look him directly in the eyes, before quickly returning it.<p>

"He takes care of me." She replied, the contents of her breath tickling his bare chest along with the soft feel of her hair blanketing his shoulder. Silence coated the apartment for a few moments before she added. "It's not always bad."

"It's not?" He asked in doubt.

"No, he's just… misunderstood. He doesn't want to be alone."

"You're defending him?" He cocked his head up in surprise and watched as she inclined hers to allow his gaze access to run over her face.

"No, of course I'm not defending him." Elena answered defensively before continuing. "I know what it's like to be completely alone, it's painful."

"So you let him trap you so he doesn't have to be alone?" He sat up, disconnecting their flesh as he climbed from the bed.

"It's not like that,"

"Then what is it like?" He exclaimed angrily.

"I owe him everything, Damon. You didn't know what life I had before he came along."

He huffed while rummaging through the top drawer of his chest of drawers, finally retrieving a pair of joggers and pulling them swiftly on. "Then why don't you tell me?"

"I can't," she told him weakly and hung her head.

"Because of him?" he accused.

"No, not because of him, because I'm not ready, I can't relive it, I can't have people know." Her obvious upset made him instantly soften and return to her side on the bed. A soft brush of her hair from her face with his hand made her look at him, the sadness evident in her brown eyes. He wanted to kick himself. He was supposed to be making her happy, not almost bringing her to tears. "Can we not fight?" She asked in a whisper.

Damon smiled. "We can do that."

Their arms simultaneously went around one another and their bodies lowered back into the warmth of the mattress. He wanted to know, he wanted her to tell him everything but the need to spend their last day together without fighting overpowered his curiosity for the details of her life and her entanglement to Frank.

* * *

><p>Damon sighed as he slipped out of his jacket and tossed aside his shoes. He had spent the entire day wondering if he could sneak back to his apartment and be with Elena. But of course, his work load had other plans. The soft spray of the shower behind the closed bathroom door was picked up by his hearing, giving him the ammunition to make the assumption that Elena was taking a shower, and he smiled mischievously to himself. He was definitely going to join her.<p>

Pushing open the door, he was welcomed by the thin layer of steam while making quick work of discarding his shirt. Then his eyes landed on something he had least expected. The glass door to the walk-in shower was open, enabling him to make out the small shape of a fully-clothed Elena sat upon the ceramic floor, directly under the spray of the water.

"Elena, what-

His voice was overflowing with concern in response to the sight before him. Only when he moved closer did he notice the shade of red surrounding her eyes and the blankness they revealed.

"Elena, what's going on?" He reached into the shower to turn the knob but she held up her hand to stop him, her flesh catching his. Ignoring her attempt to stop him, he twisted the shower to off.

"I haven't cried in so long," she said in a voice as lifeless as her eyes. "Now I can't stop, I don't know how to make it stop." Then she broke, right in front of him. Tears fell freely down her makeup stained cheeks and her face dropped into her opened hands.

His mind drawing a blank on what to do, Damon allowed his bare feet to take him deeper into the shower, dipped down and twisted on his feet until his back met the tiled wall and his rear took its place next to her. He gathered the curtain of hair and waited for her head to lift from its burial in her hands. After a few moments she did exactly that. "It's not enough time."

Under normal circumstances, he would have asked for an explanation, but he already knew what she meant. "It's not enough time," her sobs mixed with the repeated statement forced him to frame her face with his hands and touch their foreheads together.

"Shh, it's okay." He soothed.

Her head shook fiercely. "I have to go back to my apartment tomorrow, pretend like nothing's changed. How can I?"

Unable to find any words, Damon interjected the tears that travelled down each side of her face with a swipe of his thumb

"I don't want to drown anymore." She wept.

Honestly, this wasn't what he was expecting. Especially not from her, she was a steel cage when it came to showing her emotions; he had figured that out after just a few weeks since their first meeting. Now it was six months later, and it was the first time he had seen her cry, or bare more than a small hint of vulnerability. He wanted to urge her to leave Frank, but now wasn't really the appropriate time for that conversation so instead, he leaned in and kissed her, deep and slowly as she whimpered into his mouth and he tasted the salt of her tears that had soaked into the seams of her lips. Her fingers found their way into his hair in attempt to pull him even closer, to which he had to unfortunately resist. Breaking the kiss and hooking his one arm under her knees while the other wound around the middle of her back, he lifted her from the soaked shower floor and proceeded through to the main of the apartment.

Damon placed her down on the bed, and silenced her with the pad of his fingers when she began to voice her worry of the sheets getting ruined. Keeping their eyes locked, he slipped his fingers into the top of her pyjama shorts and dragged them from their rest on her hips, down her legs and onto the floor then returned back up her body to rid her of the soaked vest. Left in only her matching cotton black underwear set that also clung to her skin for dear life, he quickly removed them before rounding the bed in aim for his chest of drawers and grabbing the first items of clothing he could get his hands on; a V neck black t shirt and joggers.

Elena helpfully lifted her arms up for him to slip the t shirt over her head and curtain a large portion of her damp body. When he took one of her ankles to help her into the joggers, she shrugged him off and slid a hand around the back of his neck, effectively pulling him back up to her level, his hands on her bare thighs as his body was wedged between her legs.

"I don't want this to end tomorrow." She told him.

He ran his fingers along her cheekbone then into her wet hair, their eyes burning together in a roaring fire of blue and brown. "We'll figure something out." He assured.

"What if we can't?" she asked quietly.

The use of the term 'we' was enough to make his insides sizzle.

"Then we go to plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"I'll tell you when Plan A doesn't work out." Damon smiled devilishly and stood from his knees, taking his hand from her in the process.

"Wait," She took hold of his hand before it escaped her and rose from the bed to a stand directly in front of him. "You're wet too," she pointed out.

Following her gaze that formed a blazing path of desire down his body, he noticed his shirt clung to the perfectly defined lines of his muscled torso, handing him the hint of her obvious suggestion. His eyes met hers again; the hungered look evident in both. She extended a hand to begin unfastening each button of his dress shirt and peeled it down his arms, letting it hit the floor before leaning forward and placing an open-mouthed kiss to the slight damp of his chest. He let out a heavy breath as her mouth found its way down his torso, outlining each of his abs with her tongue as she dropped to her knees and began working on undoing his pants.

"Elena," He grabbed onto both of her hands, stopping them from slipping into his pants. As much as this was exactly how he wanted to spend their _possibly_ last night together, he couldn't help but be wary of her vulnerable state. He didn't want to take advantage of her in any way.

Brushing off his hands as well as his wariness, she returned to her mission into his pants and took the hard length of him in her hand. A soft groan escaped him in response to the skilful rub of her hand up and down his erection, and the collection of the pre-cum from the tip of his penis aiding her in doing so. She hooked the fingers of her free hand into the top of his pants and pulled them down his legs, then much to his delight, she kept a firm grip on the base of him then leaned forward and took the tip into her warm, wet mouth. The only disadvantage of this situation was that he didn't have anything to fiercely grab onto. Lowering his eyes to watch her while revelling entirely in the feel of her taking all of him into her mouth, small flicks of her tongue against the tip forcing him to take a firm hold on the top of her head. He _had _to figure something out, because he wouldn't be able to give this up. And it wasn't just about the sex, he could get sex anywhere, yet he didn't want it from anywhere, or any woman, he wanted it from her, for the rest of his life.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note : **So I sort of took a break from writing this story because I had an idea for a new story! I'll be putting it up in the next few days so I hope you'll check it out! Anyway, here's chapter 12! Thank you so much for the reviews once again and everything, it really does help me keep inspired to write. I hope you enjoy! xxxxxxx

**12**

"_She made you decent, and in return you made her so happy__." __- __**One Day**_

A weak shaking motion of a hand connected to her shoulder stirred Elena to awaken, her eyes fluttered open to find the man she wished she could wake up to every morning, but of course, never could. A wave of sadness washed through her as she remembered what morning it was; Wednesday. Maybe she had gone to sleep hoping she would wake up in Damon's arms, in a place where Frank didn't exist, where she wouldn't have to refasten the anchor around her neck and she wouldn't have to leave everything she wanted behind.

"Morning beautiful," The sound of his velvet voice was enough to wake her completely along with the soft kiss he placed on her lips.

"Morning," She replied with just as much pleasure. They may not have much time left, but at least she could keep this memory for as long as she lived. She would keep him with her, even if it wasn't in person.

Propping herself up onto both hands, the sheet falling from her upper-body to reveal its nakedness, she took in Damon's attire; his suit. She could only assume he had to be in work soon, which meant last night was the last time they would be together, completely. "How long before you have to leave?" she queried.

"Soon," he answered, tracing her collarbone then up the bow of her neck until his fingers found the start of her dishevelled hair, where they instinctively dove into. Her head still hung at the reply even though she had been expecting it.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked in a small voice.

"You looked so peaceful." He assured softly, and she lifted her head to look at him.

"You want to kiss me until you have to leave then?" She asked with a smile.

"Very much," he replied huskily before taking a hold of the back of her neck and pulling her into a scorching kiss. It didn't take long for her to pull him down on top of her as she melted into the mattress of his king-sized bed, her hands running through his hair and her legs widening for him to mould against her.

He groaned as her fingers found their way to his pants and her lips found his earlobe. "You keep doing that; I won't be leaving anywhere soon."

"Mm, maybe you shouldn't then." She whispered against his skin before taking his ear captive between her teeth and fighting with the button of his pants, his growing erection obvious as it began nudging against her naked flesh. Once she freed him from his pants and took the hard length in her hand, skilfully moving it up and down, a small groan of pleasure slipped from him, causing a smile to form on her lips while she worked him harder. By the time he was on the edge of his release, she was painfully wet and the urge to have him inside her was overwhelming. She guided the tip of his throbbing member to her core and without pause he thrust inside, filling her entirely.

"This is going to be over quickly, you know that right?" he said against her lips.

Elena bit down on her lower lip and nodded, "I just need to feel you," she replied breathlessly. It was the truth, she didn't care if it lasted for a minute or ten; she just needed to feel every part of him. If this was the last time they would be together, she needed it fresh in her mind, she needed all of him, one last time. She raked her nails over his shirt covered back and tightened the vice of her legs around his hips as his torturously slow drives inside her hit the exact spot and his hand snaked between their bodies to thumb her clit.

The moment his name left her lips in a breathy moan, he picked up his pace on both accounts, and soon they were simultaneously taking the plunge into ecstasy. He leant down and kissed her, their tongues meeting for just a moment before he broke away and slipped out of her. She watched him do his pants back up and straighten the rest of his suit, then bending back down to her upon the bed to provide her with another mind-numbing kiss, just like they always were, she wondered where she would find the strength to walk out of this apartment.

There was no 'see you soon' because they both knew of the uncertainty of when they would see one another again. Seeing no point in remaining in bed, Elena climbed from the bed and slipped into her robe, aiming for the walk-in shower to provide her with some ease of having to leave this week, and Damon behind. The hot spray of the water proved a disappointment the moment it touched upon her skin until she stepped out and wrapped the soft white towel around her. Would she be able to leave here? To walk out of this apartment with the complete uncertainty of ever being back here again, in Damon arms, in his bed; she didn't know, but she had no other choice. She wished with every part of her, her heart, her soul, that she could stay here and wait for Damon to come home from work, she wished they could have a life together. But she couldn't wish that she had never met Frank, that she hadn't accepted his offer, because then she would never had met Damon. He would have never given her the best week of her life, and she never would have felt the way she did when she was with him. Of course she could never tell him, it would only make it harder than it already was.

Once dressed and made up, heading for the door with her large bag resting on her shoulder, she turned to take one last look of the apartment, a great sense of loss overcoming her, triggering a powerful lump to form in her throat, which only increased in its hold as she slipped out of the apartment and returned to her own. Just like the night before, she didn't have to wonder where the tears were, they came without permission, and she couldn't seem to find a way to make them stop. Her back collided with the door and slid down its length until her bottom hit the floor, legs pulled against her chest and the tears fell freely down her recently make-up covered face. The fact that she didn't have to go into work again today was a relief, she wouldn't have to act like she was perfectly fine, or be a floor away from Damon, or even see Frank until he returned this evening.

Finally gathering the spilled feelings and emotions, wiping the tears from her face, picking herself up from the floor and wearily dragging her feet through the apartment, she gained more strength the further she got from the emotional meltdown, eventually taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

How would she get past this? She didn't doubt the strength she had, but still, this felt out of her depth. She was swimming in shark invested waters with no weapon, no scuba tank filled with air, and soon she would be refastened to the sea-bed, her life slowly ebbing away until there was nothing left.

In a sudden act of desperation with refusal to settle for such a life, she stood from the bed, grabbed her bag and rushed from the apartment. If she had to live an empty life with Frank, she needed an air supply, she needed the person who kept her alive, and that was Damon.

She spent the cab ride fixing her spoiled makeup, something she hadn't had to do for a long time, and wished she had made a change of clothes before practically running from her apartment. Instead, she wore the one of many items of clothing she had tossed into her bag when she made a quick trip back to her apartment for much-needed supplies after settling for wearing Damon's shirts for five days. Since her plan had been to make Damon's eyes pop out of his head, figuratively speaking of course, she had decided on her favourite red dress that fitted like a glove, gave a small preview of her cleavage and ended in the middle of her thighs. Right now, it was partially covered with a black cardigan. Quickly paying the cab driver and climbing out onto the pavement in front of Miller & Anderson, her stomach did numerous flips and her lips grew into an exhilarated smile. She proceeded through the 43rd story building, stopping at the 42nd floor and stepped from the elevator, holding no understanding to how her insides could be trembling at the thought of seeing him when he only left her a few hours ago.

Ensuring her presence wasn't recognized, she pushed open the door that led to Damon's office a small amount, and slithered inside. To her extreme disappointment, the office was empty.

She took slow and careful steps of her pumps into the office, ran the tips of her fingers along the chair, the desk, then took a seat on the leather office chair and shrugged out of the black cardigan that hid the view of her cleavage. The butterflies roaming the inside of her stomach increased the power and speed of the flap of their wings as her hearing caught the approaching voice that made her melt.

But it wasn't alone.

"Stefan, for god's sake, can't you just put the offer on hold, just until I figure things out?" Damon urged; his voice full of aggravation that became even more prominent as the door opened and both brothers walked in. Lucky for Elena, she didn't freeze in response to the unexpected and she had wedged her body under the desk before the door had even cracked open. She was filled with panic, yet laughter threatened to spill from her mouth therefore a hand made sure none did.

"I can't put it on hold, Damon. I've already accepted." Stefan explained.

"Of course you can, just tell Frank you need some more time to think it over."

"But I don't,"

Damon blew out a frustrated breath. "Will you just do it, for me?"

A few moments went by and Elena wondered if they had left the room, until the chair was pulled away from the desk and Damon slipped onto it, his knees almost touching her.

"How much more time are we talking?"

"Just a few days, I can talk to Frank tomorrow," he offered.

She would risk running a hand up his thigh, or unzipping his pants to take hold of him, but she couldn't be sure of his reaction, if he was completely surprised then Stefan was undoubtedly going to find her there and realise what they were doing, unless Damon was willing to tell his younger brother, she didn't want to spring something like this on him. So, she kept quiet for a few long minutes until Stefan evidently left the office, closing the door behind his exit until it was safe for her to emerge from under the desk, her hands instantly finding his thighs and her eyes marking his surprised expression. It only took a moment before a smile spread across his face. "What are you…?" He asked almost in disbelief.

"Actually never mind, this is the best surprise I could ever get."

"I'm sure I can make it even better." Her smile was full of mischief as her fingers undid his pants. She was fully aware that her breasts were practically begging for his attention as she knelt between his opened legs. As if reading her body, he cupped them with both hands, kneading them until she relocated his hands into her hair and bent to take his now fully awakened erection into her mouth. She didn't know if it was because he knew what was going to happen, or just because of her, but it made her happy that she had that kind of effect on him. Purposely lifting her eyes to watch his head fall back and a groan tumble erotically from his mouth as she sucked him the exact way she knew he liked, her tongue darting along the shaft and tracing the tip every now and then, she grew increasingly aroused and as he gripped her hair at the roots, she moaned against him while taking the entirety of him within her mouth with raw eager. She could barely contain the throb between her legs that begged for her to slide onto his member and ride him until she exploded. Still, she put her needs to one side and concerted on the mission to uncover the loud groan that she always seemed able to coax from him. His fingers tightened on her head and he spilled inside her mouth, which she swallowed without effort.

Damon lifted his head and looked down at her, his blue eyes sated. "You are, amazing." He told her.

She wiped the corners of her mouth and pushed the loose strands of hair from her face before she received the pleasant surprise of his hands gripping her upper-arms and effectively pulling her from her knees while pushing his chair away from the desk and sitting her on its surface. "This dress…" He raked every inch of her, for what felt like a very long time then pushed the dress up to allow his hands access to her core. Pushing her panties to one side and slipping a finger inside her folds to run the length, her hands gripped onto the edge of the desk and her legs unconsciously widened even further as she watched the sky darken with desire in his eyes.

"Damon," she gasped while he slipped a finger inside her core, her eyes glued to his beautiful face as the realization that she was completely and utterly in love with him ran through her. She was in love? How did she know? She had never been in love before, was this what love felt like? She framed his face with her hands, forcing his eyes to meet with hers before she placed a kiss to his lips. _Oh, this was love._

* * *

><p>"How do I look?" Damon asked while smoothing the lapel of his jacket.<p>

"Fine," Stefan's reply was disinterested as they took the corridor together, came to a stop at the elevators where only Damon took a step inside.

"Fine?" Damon scoffed.

"Yes, you look fine." He exclaimed irritated. "Why do you even care? You're only going to see Frank."

Damon rolled his eyes. "I'm confronting our boss of his intentions; I have to look my best."

He thumbed the button labelled the 43rd floor with light force and provided his younger brother with his usual crooked smile until the shutting of the gold elevator doors separated them.

If he was anyone else, he would probably be nervous. But Frank didn't scare him, he just pissed him off, now more than usual because he was trying to get Stefan involved in his mind games to keep him away from Elena.

Crossing onto the top floor, and not stopping in his movements until he was outside the glass door of Frank's office since he knew Elena wouldn't be sat at her desk because she was at his. His office had quickly become the place for their secret rendezvous ever since her unexpected visit yesterday morning. It had been more difficult for her to get away today because she was supposed to be working; still she turned up at his office, locked the door and rid herself of her clothes before he ravaged her on his desk. He would still be there now if he didn't have to deal with Frank, and he had insisted she stay in his office until his 'discussion' with Frank was finished. Not bothering to wait for an answer, Damon entered the office to find Frank sat at his desk, scribbling away at a piece of paper.

"Ah, Mr Salvatore," Frank greeted him venomously.

"Let's skip pleasantries." He said outright before continuing. "Offering my brother the job in Paris; well played, Frank, but it's not going to work." Damon told him.

Frank chuckled. "It already did."

"He's not going."

"He accepted, therefore he's going." Frank stood from his chair and rounded the glass desk. "You should be proud; you cleared the runway for your brother's success."

"You tricked me." Damon realised.

"No, I put you into the ring; you're the one who started the fight."

Damon's brow furrowed and he took a step towards Frank, standing his ground. "This is about you; this has nothing to do with Stefan." He said darkly. "Your need to keep everyone under control, you and your crazy impulse to be the puppet master pulling all the strings, because at the end of the day, you have no-one. You want to pull me into this because you don't like the way I look at Elena? That's fine. But you leave my brother out of it."

"Oh but he's already in the game, Damon. You made sure of that when you started making advances at my fiancée."

He almost laughed, making advances at Elena should be the least of Franks worries when only twenty minutes ago he was having sex with her right on his desk. That's something he would much rather be doing at this very moment instead of playing tug of war with his manipulative boss.

"No, this is the work of a desperate man grasping at straws. You know you can't keep her, that she won't stay with you if she's handed another opportunity."

He turned to leave; satisfied that he had unveiled Frank's obvious intentions on sending Stefan to Paris being bad and set on his decision that there was no way he was letting him leave now. Just as he extended his hand to grab the door handle, a malicious chuckle spilled from Frank causing Damon to turn back around.

"Be careful, Damon." Frank warned. "It would be real easy for Stefan to have an accident in Paris without his noble older brother there to protect him."

Damon felt the anger build at the thought of Frank making a threat on his brother's life. "Is that a threat?"

Frank made no reply, instead gave a sneaky grin.

"You lay a finger on my brother; you'll live to regret it."

"No, _you'll_ live to regret it," Frank pointed a forefinger in Damon's direction. "Because if anything does happen to him; it's on your head."

"He's not taking the job," he told him. "I suggest you find someone else."

He turned towards the door for the second time, and this time succeeded in pulling it open and disappearing from the office that seemed the drastically increase in its temperature, or maybe that was due to the anger radiating from him? He knew it; from the moment Stefan told him about the Paris job offer, he knew this was one of Frank's games. What he couldn't get his head around was why Frank would go to such measures to keep a woman he obviously didn't love at all, he treated her with no respect, he slept around, and talked about her like she was his property; referring to her as 'his fiancée' instead of by her actual name. Was it a pride thing? Could he not bear the thought of losing to another man so much that he would threaten the life of anyone who stood in his way? God, this was complicated.

* * *

><p>Damon groaned as she eagerly slid onto him until he couldn't possibly go any further, her walls eagerly accepting him. Her arm slung around his neck and her hand held a firm grip on his shoulder as she rode him powerfully, their foreheads rubbing and their ragged breath mixing. "God, you feel…" she gasped against his lips. He knew exactly what she meant, they hadn't been together like this for four whole days and it had almost killed him. With Andie out sick from work, they had only been able to see one another that one time on Thursday morning, then not at all on Friday much to his dismay, which increased severely when she told him Frank was planning on taking her to a few places over the weekend so she obviously wouldn't be able to see him then either. Not being able to run his fingers along her skin, or taste the sweetness of her mouth, or feel how he seemed to fit inside her so perfectly was the worst kind of torture. He ran his hands up her bare thighs as she moved on top of him, her blouse opened entirely to give him full view of her breasts. Even if they were still held inside the black lace bra, it was better than nothing. His tongue darted out and attacked every piece of skin it could find, finally landing on the hardened nipple that stood to attention even inside the bra. Quickly pulling down the material, he took it in his mouth and eagerly sucked on it until her moans became desperate. She kissed him feverishly and swept her tongue along the contents of his bottom lip before nibbling it, purposely clenching her walls around his member as she lowered and lifted herself on him in frenzied motions.<p>

Much too quickly it was over, due to the fact that he wanted this moment to last forever after having to endure four days without it, and her walls clamped around him in her orgasm, shortly triggering his own release while she presented him with a long and languid kiss, her tongue sweeping back into his mouth to explore every crevice.

"I hate it when I can't see you." He grumbled against her neck once she broke the kiss and went for his ear.

"I hate it even more." She said, eventually climbing off his lap and allowing him to slip out of her. "At least we'll see each other tonight, at the party." She smoothed out her hair and redid her blouse.

"Oh, right. Yeah." He said unenthusiastic; it's not that he wasn't extremely happy about seeing her for an entire night; he was, it just wasn't exactly a dream come true. He wouldn't be able to dance with her, or wind an arm around her waist, or steal a kiss in front of the whole party full of business people. Still, he would take what he could get.

Rearranging himself back into his pants and standing from the office chair, he bent to retrieve the panties he had practically torn from her body in rush to get at her and handed them to her.

Elena smiled playfully. "You know what? Maybe I won't put them back on."

Damon groaned instantly at the image planted in his mind of her walking around completely bare beneath that grey pencil skirt for the rest of the day. "And maybe…" she moved towards him and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll come back and see you before we finish tonight."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes and he raked the length of her body, down to the skirt she had only moments ago dragged back down her body from its scrunched position on her hips which his insistent hands had been responsible for. Solely, he had planned on getting her completely naked, but when she breathlessly urged him that she needed him now, he couldn't help but comply.

He leaned down to take her into a slow and deep kiss, the same he always did after they had sex and quickly probed her mouth with his tongue before she pulled away, giggled softly and left his office.

_God, she was perfect._

He sighed with both happiness and relief. When Wednesday morning had come and gone, they had both been prepared for that to be the last time they would be together. Although he had hoped it wasn't, for two reasons; he couldn't bear to not have her and if that was the last time they had sex, it was very impressive on his part. Goodbye sex was supposed to be mind-blowing and unforgettable, not over in five minutes. Thankfully, that hadn't been the last time, since she had miraculously appeared, underneath his desk, might he add, and they ended up having the mind-blowing and unforgettable sex, except it wasn't a goodbye. It felt more like a start, a promise even, that they would stay together as one no matter what. Or maybe that was what he hoped it was.

Unfortunately, she didn't come to see him before they finished work. He didn't mean to be angry, he really shouldn't be but sometimes the fact that unless it was safe and hidden, they couldn't see one another flared his temper. Leaving him no choice but to hope he would see her at the business party, he was all set in his black tuxedo and heading to the building address at promptly 8:30pm, his aim of finding Stefan in the mass of business men and women proving unsuccessful so far. Even though he had told Stefan all about his discussion with Frank last week, he still hadn't turned down the offer; which he had found out from the rest of the building. How could he not have turned down the offer immediately after Damon warned him about Frank's intentions of practically having him put in hospital, or worse, if Damon didn't stay away from Elena? He was stubborn that's why. He would rather have broken bones than take his older brother's advice or guidance.

Weaving through the crowds, his eyes raking across every person in hope to find the chocolate curls or would settle for the spiked hairdo of his 25 year old brother. What he wasn't expecting was them to be together.

"Hello, brother." Damon greeted him breezily before turning to look at Elena. Her long brown curls were gathered over one shoulder with what he could only assume was with the aid of hairclips, the sleeveless black dress she wore was simple until it reached the space between her breasts and her neck, where the dress became a flowered netting. He could just about see the swell of her breasts, along with every line of her body as the dress clung to her until it stopped mid-thigh, and it made him want to drag her somewhere private. A small blush erupting under her skin caught his attention and he couldn't help but feel amazed by her. One moment she was mischievous and completely in control, the next she would become an innocent girl who flushed at any kind of compliment or gesture that showed a man's desire for her.

"Damon, could I speak to you for a moment?" Stefan queried.

"Did you turn down the job?" Damon asked without dragging his gaze from Elena.

"No,"

"Then I don't have a moment."

"Come on, you're not serious are you? You're not going to speak to me for accepting a job offer?" Stefan exclaimed.

"Elena, could you just excuse us for one second." Damon held up a forefinger in the air and watched as Elena excused herself from their brotherly spat and disappeared through the crowd. "This isn't a job offer, Stefan. It's a death wish."

Stefan scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not being ridiculous." He argued. "If you go to Paris, I won't be able to take care of you, do you understand that? And that's exactly what Frank wants."

Stefan leaned and said in a low voice. "You know how to solve all this; leave Elena alone."

"I can't do that." Damon replied in the same hushed tone.

"Then don't lecture me about going to Paris when you're holding all the cards."

"Stefan-

His hand went out to grab his brother's arm but failed in stopping him from leaving. He couldn't blame Stefan for suggesting he solve all of their problems and just leave Elena alone, because after all, he didn't know everything. He didn't know they were sleeping together, he didn't know that he was in too deep to climb from the treacherous waters. Deciding it was best he leave Stefan stew in his juices before he approached him again, Damon set off in the direction Elena had gone a few minutes before. When he finally discovered her, his hand grasped her bare upper-arm and his lips went to her ear.

"Meet me in the bathroom." He whispered then swiftly continued on his travels, this time towards the bathroom. Once inside, he thoroughly checked it was free of any other presence then turned to await her entrance. He didn't have to wait long and she was there, her back leaning against the door and her fingers turning the lock.

"This is dangerous." She pointed out.

"I know," he agreed.

She looked down then back up at him. "Do I need to be worried about the Stefan situation?"

"No, you don't need to worry about it. I'll take care of it." he assured. "Come here,"

She pushed herself from the door and moved towards him until their bodies were almost touching. Without warning, he hooked onto the back of her neck which was bare thanks to her hairstyle for tonight, and crashed their lips together. Her lips parted and his tongue slid inside, the taste of the champagne she had been drinking still evident. Her fingers gripped the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as he walked them backwards, grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her onto the counter in one quick movement. Parting her legs and running his hands up the inside until met with the junction in between, her obvious arousal causing him to painfully harden inside his pants. "Frank's right outside." She breathed in between kisses.

He slipped his fingers under the material of her panties and dipped a finger into her core, earning a soft moan. "We shouldn't do this," she was panting now, and it only egged him on further. Adding another finger, he revelled in the way she clung to him as he pumped his fingers in and out of her. It wasn't long before he couldn't wait any longer; he retrieved his fingers and replaced them with his throbbing member, immediately moving with animalistic speed. He knew she had given up in her small resistant when she began begging him to go harder. Her arms locked underneath his and her hands dug into the tuxedo jacket, her legs went around him as he thrust inside her, each one harder and deeper than the last, much to her obvious appreciation. He could tell by the dig of her nails into his back, and the push of her heels into the curve of his bottom that she just needed him to fuck her tonight; which he was more than willing to provide. Her back hit the wall as he pounded inside her and if she wasn't breathlessly insisted he go harder and faster he would have slowed it down in case of her being hurt. He coaxed her to the brink of oblivion with the expert rub of his fingers against her clit and when she finally let out a loud moan and squeezed around him, his own groan spilled out, along with his seed inside her.

"I hate this," She said softly as he slipped out of her and returned her to the ground with a small clap of her heels.

"What?" he asked while refastening his pants.

"This; the hiding," Her expression was sad and he instinctively wound his arms around her waist. "Is this all we'll ever have? The secret moments in your office, the bathroom at a party…"

"It doesn't have to be like this." He told her.

"It doesn't?" she looked up at him, her doe eyes doubtful.

"No," he took his hand from the small of her back and ran it down the side of her face. "You can leave him."

Her brow creased in confusion and she straightened up. "What?"

"Leave him," he said more clearly. "Be with me."


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: **So here it is! A lot shorter than the last chapter but it sort of had to be. Anyway thank you sooooooo much for the reviews, you're all amazing! And hopefully I'll still be on the ball tomorrow so I'll be able to whip out the next chapter for you and I guarantee it will be longer than this one! Please review! FAREWELL :D xxxxxxxx

**13**

"_I guarantee there'll be tough times; I guarantee that at some point, one or both of us is going to want to get out of this thing. But I also guarantee that if I don't ask you to be mine, I'll regret it for the rest of my life, because I know in my heart that you are the only one for me." – __**Runaway Bride.**_

"_Leave him, be with me."_

"Damon…" her voice was full of doubt, and she could tell by his facial reaction that he didn't like it.

"I know, you said you can't." he huffed and let his hands fall from her body. "I don't understand you. You say you don't want to drown anymore, so here's your way out, Elena." he held his hands up. "And you won't take it."

"Not won't, can't." she corrected.

A bitter chuckle came from him. "Right, you can't. So why don't you tell me exactly why that is?"

"Damon,"

"No, whatever this is between us, you owe me the truth."

She did owe him the truth; she owed him a lot more than she was giving him. "You're right," she admitted. "This isn't fair to you. You shouldn't have to be with someone who can never be yours."

"I don't _care _about fair! I care about you; I care about you being miserable. I care about you having a meltdown in my apartment because you can't stand to go back to Frank."

Elena's eyes went to the floor in reaction to his revelation. "This isn't your problem." She said in a quiet voice.

"Yes it is." He said quickly. "You made it my problem when you slept with me."

A rush of guilt went through her. The fact that she hadn't purposely led him on didn't seem to mean anything. She had more than willing jumped into bed with him, not remembering that he would eventually want more from her, and she wouldn't be able to give him that. "Then maybe we shouldn't anymore." The suggestion barely made it out of her mouth due to its ability to break her in two.

"And you're willing to do that?" The anger he was just wielding seemed void, and in its place was a small amount of hurt. "Just because you can't be honest with me,"

"Yes," she answered.

"Elena," Damon moved to her and his hand returned to her face. "Listen to me," he urged while forcing her eyes up. "You don't have to drown anymore. I can give you anything you want, any life you want."

She shook her head. "We can never have that life."

"Yes we can,"

The shaking of her head became stronger and tears pricked at her eyes. "I can never be your girlfriend, your wife, the mother of her children," a sob escaped along with a generous amount of tears at the realism of it all. Of course she knew they could never share a life together, but that didn't mean she didn't wish for it, hope for it with every fibre of her being. "We can never have any of that," he caught the spilled tears with his thumb before returning to the soft soothing rub against her cheekbone. "At least not together,"

His brow wrinkled. "So, what? You'll stay with Frank, be with him instead of me?"

"It's the only choice I have."

"No, it's not! I'm offering you a different choice." He exclaimed, his intimate cup of her face making a quick transformation into a grip. "Tell me why you won't take it, why you're trapped. I've let this go before, but right now I'm not leaving until you give me a reason."

"I'm scared."

"Of Frank,"

"No, of the way you'll look at me when you find out the truth."

"Nothing you do, or have done, will make me look at you differently. I will still look at you like you're the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, like you're the only woman I ever want to be with." His hand fell from her face and she watched as he began pacing in front of her. "I mean, we've only known one another for a few months, we've only been sleeping together for two weeks, yet I know without a seconds thought that you are the only person I want to be with for the rest of my life."

She wanted to cry, to tell him she felt the same, she wanted to fall into his arms and stay there for an eternity, or however long the universe would give her. Obviously noticing her conflict, he returned to her and placed his hand against her face. She composed herself as much as possible with the burn of his flesh with hers and looked him directly in the eyes, lifted her hand and placed it over his, squeezing it with light force before removing it from her face and letting it drop to his side. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Without a second glance, she slipped from the room that only a handful of minutes ago was the place for their raw passionate sex and left the party, and him behind. This is what she should have done prior to them sleeping together. She felt heart-broken and guilt-ridden all at once, which weighed her down even further. He deserved more than the constant sneaking around, or the stolen moments, she knew that, but her desperate need for him had been stronger than her sense of morale. He deserved someone he could call his, someone who could offer him a relationship that didn't consist of secrecy. And though giving him up felt like she was cutting out her own heart, it was something she had to do. She wished he could know how she felt, how he was the first man to show her intimacy and passion, how she deserved to be worshipped and given pleasure, how he was the first man she had ever fallen in love with.

Elena proceeded to her apartment without notifying Frank of her leave; let out the breath she hadn't been aware was being held for the entire return. A part of her wanted him to come after her, offer her everything she knew he could give her that no one else could, maybe even take her away from here. But she could never ask him to give up his job, and that's exactly what they would be putting on the line if she took him up on his offer of giving her a life. She knew Frank, he was manipulative, and he would do anything to keep his pride. If she left him for Damon, there was no telling what he would do, to Damon, to his brother, and she couldn't take that kind of risk.

She kicked off her heels and looked down at the simple black dress she had picked out herself instead of Frank throwing his choice of outfits at her. The dress which she had purposely decided on because it had a high netted neckline, therefore she wouldn't have to wear the necklace that seemed to choke her.

It was just past midnight when she turned her attention from the book she had been reading since ten 'O clock to the sound of her apartment door opening and the soft impact of footsteps against the wood floor. Placing the book down on the bed and climbing from it, Elena peered across the apartment until landing on the new arrival; Frank.

"You left without informing me." Frank said.

Elena shifted on her feet before replying. "I didn't feel so good."

Even before she had slept with Damon she had the sense to be afraid of disobeying Frank, even if it was small, but lately that fear was nowhere to be found.

"And if something had happened?"

She took a moment to contemplate exactly what he meant, then landed on the assumption that he must mean if something happened to her. "You would have to find another trophy to shine."

His tawny eyes flashed with anger then seemed to dissipate as he started towards her. "I know things are strained,"

Was he seriously trying to reason with her? Frank Miller, the man who didn't need to reason with anyone, the man who never had to use the power of persuasion on anyone because he would much rather make use of his fist.

"Things have always been strained." She objected, much to his annoyance. "What are your plans for Stefan Salvatore?" she asked already knowing they were bad. Damon had asked her to keep out of it, but alas, she couldn't. She wasn't going to allow Frank to bully and alienate every like he did with her, and obviously it was dangerous for her to reveal she knew he had plans for Stefan Salvatore because it would drag the conclusion that she got it from Damon, but still, she could care less to what he did to her anymore. She just wanted Damon left out of it.

An amused grin plastered his features. "So he's told you."

"The whole business knows Frank; _he _didn't have to tell me anything." Elena retorted fiercely, her instinctual protectiveness of Damon flaring and her inability to deny they were on speaking terms.

"You're lying." Frank said matter-of-factly, walking around her stilled frame. "So, when did he tell you? When he was fucking you into his desk?"

Her eyes widened for a moment but then returned to normal. Surprise didn't find her because she had been waiting for the moment when he would reveal he knew about her sleeping with Damon. After all, he ensured he knew everything that was happening around him.

Forcing her strength to build, she opened her mouth. "No, when he was fucking me in his bed actually."

Still she felt no surprise when his fist knocked her off balance with a harsh impact to her face and her hand went to the inflamed skin as she turned back to face him. She was surprised there was no crack that indicated the cheekbone was broken, which soon turned into a feeling of appreciation. Her stony gaze fixed with his and her chilled hand dropped from her face.

"You think you'll get anywhere without me?" His voice rose profoundly. "Once people find out what you are, they'll run in the opposite direction, even your prince charming. You're nothing but a whore." He spat out.

She felt the anger escalate in drastic measure to the surface, along with an immensity of hurt. He was voicing her fears and doubts she kept locked away in the box containing every detail of her past, the main reason she couldn't force herself to reveal everything to Damon was due to the crippling fear that he would reject her once he knew about her past, what she did. Of course she expected the looks of disgust she would undoubtedly receive from any person who uncovered the truth about her, but it didn't mean that she didn't hope for understanding. Most of all, she feared that Damon wouldn't feel the same if he knew. Hearing the words from Frank made her realise her foolishness, but still reward herself for keeping silent about her past activities, of course nobody would understand. It was distasteful, the work of a desperate woman. "No one can give you as good as a life I can," the repeat of the words used when he had given her the heart of the ocean now made her realise how manipulative he was, how he was purposely buttering her up in an act of desperation to keep her under his thumb. "You owe me your respect, and you owe me your loyalty." He said in a low and threatening voice.

"Is that what this is; a good life?"

"Do I sell you off to any man interested?" He asked rhetorically, forcing her to shake her head. "Then this is a better life than you ever had before."

"It still doesn't compare to the life I _could_ have had." She returned.

"And what life would that be? With the mighty Damon Salvatore?" he sneered. "What did he offer you exactly; a life as a live-in wife while he goes and fucks anything with a pulse behind your back?"

Her eyes dropped to the floor before returning them to his. "It wouldn't be far from the life I have right now!"

She didn't believe for a second that was what her life would be like with Damon, she knew it was different with her, she felt it.

"That's where you're wrong. I don't have enough respect for you to label you my wife."

"Then what am I still doing here, Frank?" She shouted after him as he turned and moved across the apartment, halting to a stop by the window. "Why did you pick me? There were seven other girls you had the choice of."

"I wanted the best." He murmured. "But then again, standards aren't very high when it comes to whores are they?" his venom in his voice pricked at her, and she pushed the strand of hair that had fallen from the bun she had gathered on top her head from her face.

"I'm going to bed." She informed him with a flat tone.

"That's where you're at your best." Frank jeered.

Choosing to ignore his dig, she climbed onto her bed and shuffled upwards until she made contact with the pillows, where she remained until he turned on his heel and stalked from the apartment.

Elena lifted her fingers to lightly touch her cheekbone and dreaded what it would look, and feel like when she woke in the morning.

Unfortunately, she had reason to dread. Probing the bruise that had developed a small amount overnight upon her cheekbone and wincing when her touches became too firm, Elena groaned while running through believable excuses for her bruised face. Missing work was not an option, because from personal experience, she knew if she wasn't at the office then Damon would come here looking for her. Especially after the way they left things. She just had to hope her makeup would cover it enough so that people wouldn't ask questions.

She styled her curls so they covered enough of the sides of her face, and applied powder as well as foundation, with a discreet amount of blusher. Satisfied that she didn't look like a battered wife, or fiancée, she grabbed her bag, smoothed down her smart black dress and exited the apartment. She shrugged on the deep purple cardigan she had placed in her bag just in case it was cold, and slipped into the limousine awaiting her arrival. Consciously checking her face in her small compact mirror for the entire ride to Miller & Anderson, relief washed over every time she found no sign. It had only begun developing, therefore tomorrow she predicted the bruise would become much darker, and be more difficult to conceal. She would worry about that tomorrow.

Her deep purple pumps clattered noisily against the foyer floor as she hurried through, hastily decided on taking the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid a run-in with Damon and soon regretted it when she was half way to the 43rd floor and entirely exhausted. She soldiered on and reached her floor in a surprisingly small amount of time. Proceeding down the corridor to discover Andie anxiously waiting for her, she wondered what could be going on now.

"You're down on 42nd." Andie told her hurriedly.

"What?"

"Rose is out sick, they need you to take over for her." she explained to Elena's horror.

It took a few moments for her to make a response. "I'll be Damon Salvatore's PA?"

She already knew the answer; still she waited for Andie's fierce nod of her head which sent her blonde curls flying.

After a few minutes of stalling her relocation down to the 42nd floor, to cover Damon Salvatore's PA, Elena unenthusiastically trudged her way to the elevator and took it down a floor. Stepping out, the flip of her stomach extremely distracting in her attempts to remain composed, along with the hope that her makeup was still successful in covering her bruised face. She breezed past the office that provided her with flashes of the occasions they had had sex in there and stopped at the desk she knew was Rose's, slipped behind it and dropped her bag to the side of the chair she took a seat on. Every set of footsteps that approached sent her heart plummeting to the floor, followed by the wave of relief when it wasn't the dark hair and blue eyes that instantly grabbed attention, the sculpted body that could be mistaken for a Greek god, and the crooked smile that wet her appetite for him. When it came to the moment when it was him approaching, his eyes taking a second glance after realizing it wasn't Rose sat at the desk, she couldn't find any kind of sentence, or a singular word.

"What are you doing down here?" Damon asked once in front of the desk she was sat at.

When she finally managed to find her ability to speak, she explained. "I'm covering for Rose."

That fact that her voice held no emotion seemed to surprise him. "Oh,"

She looked at him with intent now, tracing every line and sculptured bone of his face, the blue of his eyes, and the curve of his lips. "I meant what I said. You deserve someone who can give you a future."

His brow lightly creased and his body leaned over the desk, his eyes starting a fire somewhere within her and the sweetness of his breath sensually masking her face.

"Come to my office in five minutes." He requested in a whisper.

Oh god, she wanted to, so badly. She wanted him to kiss her senseless, to take her on his desk until she forgot everything except how much she felt for him. "I can't," she replied glumly.

"Yes, you can." He urged before turning around and disappearing into his office.

_Could she?_

She couldn't. It was selfish.

Only a few seconds ago she was telling him he deserved better than all the hiding and now her entire being was vibrating at the thought of what he could do to her behind that door.

She definitely couldn't. Yet after a long agonizing five minutes, she was pushing away from the desk and rising from the chair, convinced that she would go in there and talk, not have sex with him on his desk or on the floor, _talk_. She approached the door, pushed down the handle and stepped inside, naturally closing it behind her, and… locking it. Locking it? Why did she just lock it? Now there were no excuses for her not to jump him.

He looked up at her and she wanted to melt. Twelve hours ago she was telling him she couldn't do this, now she was locking them inside his office. This was not going to end how she had intended.


	14. Chapter 14

**Authors Note: **Okay so I promised this chapter would be much longer, but its not :( I'm so sorry guys, it was just the place I stopped at was a realllllly good place to but I infinity promise the next one will be muuuch longer! So I know I will always love you is Dolly Parton's song, but to me that song will always be Whitney Houstons. I don't know about anyone else but whenever someone mentions that song, for the rest of my days I'll think of Whitney's version and not Dollys, because in my opinion she made it one of the greatest love songs, and of course because I absolutely adore The Bodyguard. SO ANYWAY, enough of my ramblings! I hope you enjoy and the reviews are amazing, and so are you guys! MUCH LOVE xxxxxx

**14**

"_If I should stay, I would only be in your way. So I'll go, but I know, I'll think of you every step of the way. And I will always love you. Bittersweet memories, that is all I'm taking with me, so goodbye, please don't cry, we both know, I'm not what you, you need." – __**Whitney Houston.**_

"We can't do this." Her voice held no strength as she kept a safe distance from him, her back tight against the office door as he stood from the chair and approached her with calculated movements.

"Then why are you here?" he asked, his tone husky.

"Because," she swallowed thickly as his hand took its place on the door to the side of her head and his body came to a halt an inch from hers. If her body wasn't too preoccupied with its awareness of his body so close, she would fear he may make out the hidden bruise.

"I want you to tell me the truth, Elena." he requested.

"I already told you-

"You can't," he finished off. "Then how about I guess?"

She finally looked up at him, the confusion obvious in her face. "What?"

"Since you can't tell me, I'm going to guess, and you have to tell me when I get it right."

"This isn't a game, Damon."

"I know that," his voice was sincere.

"He knows." Elena revealed and watched as his brow rose in expectance for an elaboration. "Frank, he knows about us."

His facial expression portrayed no surprise, and he eventually jeered. "Took him long enough,"

"I don't think you realise how bad this is." Elena grabbed onto his forearm when it dropped from its rest on the door behind her, stopping him from turning away. "He's dangerous, Damon. He's got everyone so scared of him, they'll do anything not to get on his bad side."

"Are you scared?" He queried, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Aren't you?"

"I'm not afraid of anything, Elena."

"How very macho of you," She scoffed and released his arm.

"There's nothing to be afraid of." He countered while returning to his desk and slipping onto the chair.

"Right of course, you don't care enough to be afraid." The snap of her voice caught the attention of his intense blue eyes, and resulted in him leaning back in his chair.

"And you do?" he shot back.

"_Of course_ I care," she pushed herself away from the door, and perched onto the edge of his desk once rounding it "All this, I'm doing because I care. I'm trying to help you."

"And how exactly are you doing that?"

"Neither of us knows what's going to happen next, we don't know what Frank will do."

"He can't do _anything_."

"That's where you're wrong," she argued. "He can do anything he wants. Get rid of anyone, control anyone."

He stood from the chair abruptly. "Why are you so afraid of him?"

She soon followed suit, "I'm _not_ afraid of him, I don't care what he does to me, not anymore. What I care about is what he does to you."

"He's only powerful because you allow him to be."

"You're probably right, but I have a reason to."

"Ah, yes. The big secret." An instantaneous build of annoyance welled within her at his use of quotations marks with his fingers along with the snarky comment. Here she was, trying to save him the trouble of losing his job, or worse, and he was making a big joke out of the fact that she couldn't tell him everything about her.

"You are such a dick." She breathed.

Damon grinned cockily. "Thank you."

Elena blew out in repugnance, leapt up from the edge of the table and stormed towards the door, only to be stopped before she even reached halfway and harshly swung back around to meet the stern lines of Damon's face along with the hard lines of his body. They were so close she could practically feel the flame of his skin igniting her own, causing her to wonder where she began and he ended.

"Before you feed me that you're doing all this for me, you might want to start being honest first." His voice was low and dark, and she wanted to kick herself for finding it undeniably sexy.

She swallowed the thickness in her throat and her eyes unconsciously darted to his mouth. "You think this is a big joke."

"The only thing I think is a joke is you and Frank spoon-feeding the entire city your fake engagement when you don't even live together, or have sex, or show any kind of love towards one another."

"I don't expect you to understand." She returned.

He frowned. "Maybe I would if you explained it to me."

"You won't." she vowed. Though she wanted desperately to lean up, kiss him, strip both their clothes off and beg him to take her, instead, she retrieved her arm from his grip and left the office without turning back to look at him. At least she didn't end up having sex with him. The glass was a half full after all. Then again, she was back at square one, no air supply, no means to live. The conflict was draining, she was trying her best to keep Damon out of it, to keep him safe from the dangerous side of Frank she knew was buried deep within, yet she couldn't bear the thought of not seeing him, feeling him, tasting him.

This was for the best wasn't it?

She didn't know, she didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to stay away, or if she had the strength to refuse him. Even when they were fighting it made her aroused, which was a disadvantage at this very moment in time, but if they were a couple, she would view it as an advantage. She returned to the desk and dreaded the rest of the day which would consist of catering to Damon's needs. She had no doubt it would be difficult.

Luckily for her, the day hadn't been all that difficult. Damon had barely left his office, only on a few occasions to wander across to Stefan's and he didn't ask her to do anything for him, which once again, left her reeling in whether she should be relieved or annoyed that he was accepting they couldn't be 'close' anymore. In other words, have constant sex or shamelessly flirt. Actually, that wasn't what she told him she couldn't do. Technically, she said she couldn't tell him the truth. Which was something he obviously needed for them to continue, and of course, the other elephant in the room; he wanted her to leave Frank. Elena closed the door to her apartment and bent to place her bag on the floor. Continuing through the apartment until her feet found their place by the bed, turned around and flopped back onto the bed. A reminder of her bruised cheekbone crept back into her mind and she lifted her fingers to touch upon the tenderness, the pain seemingly intensified throughout the day.

The arrival of Damon into her thoughts came next, the bluest of blue eyes, the silk midnight hair, and the beautiful face. She thought it was torture when she hadn't had sex for years, but now she realized how wrong she had been. _This _was torture. The image of Damon on top of her, underneath her, the feel of his hands roaming her body, the way he felt inside her. Even the memories made her aroused, which was completely new to her. She had never wanted to get herself off to the image of any man, before he came along of course. He turned her on like no one ever had, he pushed her buttons, made her want him with uncontrollable fever; he consumed her. Her hand wandered from its probe of her cheek, down her neck, over the curve of her breasts, down the flatness of her stomach, then to the bottom of her dress. Hiking it up until her bottom half was free, then sliding her fingers underneath the material of her panties, she closed her eyes and thought of nothing but him. Just as her forefinger touched upon the bundle of nerves, a loud vibrating came from across the apartment, causing her masturbation plans to be put on hold as she rapidly climbed from the bed and skated across her apartment, pulling her cell phone out from inside her bag.

"Hello?" She answered breathlessly.

"_Hey, pretty girl." _Caroline greeted her with the same zest she always held. _"What are you doing?"_

"Uh… nothing," she probably couldn't sound guiltier if she tried.

"_Are you having sex?" _Caroline asked out-right.

"No!" Elena exclaimed. "I'm… exercising."

"_Liar," _

"Okay, I wasn't exercising."

"_I missed my calling as a psychic."_

"It doesn't take Mystic Meg to figure out I'm too lazy to exercise."

"_Right, anyway, I was just calling to see if you wanted to do something tonight? Since I haven't seen my favourite face for weeks," _

"Sure, I can squeeze you in." Elena joked.

"_How very kind of you,"_

"Mm-hmm. So where do you want to go?"

"_Come to mine if you want." _

"Okay, then. I'll be there in an hour."

Elena hung up the phone and placed it on the small table set to the side of the apartment door, slipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Just as promised, approximately an hour later she was climbing from the back of a cab and entering the building that held Caroline's apartment. Ascending the stairs until her flat, knee-high black boots met with the 3rd floor, voyaging across the landing and placing a firm couple of raps against the door until it swung open to welcome her.

And of course the first words out of Caroline's were alcohol related. "Wine time?"

Elena chuckled and scooted inside, her bag still gripped on her shoulder until she removed it and let it drop to the floor. She couldn't have picked a better best friend, especially when she was struggling, Caroline would always make her forget about her problems for a little while, at least until she was alone again. Of course, Elena's thoughts had wandered to Caroline over the past two weeks; she knew she was busy because she had warned her beforehand that they may not be able to see one another for a while due to Caroline's busy work schedule and of course, Matt. Therefore, Caroline knew nothing about her and Damon sleeping together. Did she need to let slip that information? Technically she wasn't sleeping with him anymore; well she was going to _try_ not to, so did she have to tell Caroline she did the dirty with Damon Salvatore?

"I've been sleeping with Damon Salvatore." obviously she did.

Caroline's face was masked with disbelief, quickly followed by surprise, making Elena instantly regret her confession. It was obvious that her mouth didn't want to cooperate in keeping secrets that involved Damon, especially with Caroline.

"Oh my god,"

"I know, I am a complete slut and-

Interrupting her scolding was Caroline's grab to her arm, along with the unusual strength she used to drag her to the pink sofa and sit her down on it. "You have to tell me _everything_."

Elena frowned. "Did you not hear what I said? I slept with Damon."

"Have you not heard what _I've_ said since the moment we became friends?"

Elena shook her head slowly and waited for Caroline to explain.

"Elena, I hate Frank."

"I know…" She said, still not catching on.

"So Damon may be the poster-child for one night stands, but he's better for you than Frank. I know you; I know that you would never sleep with Damon if you didn't think it was different with you, that he felt something deeper."

"I'm in love with him." Elena blurted out. Did she really just say that? She had only heard it in her own mind, and hearing it out loud seemed to make it real. There was no 'I think I am' or 'I might be falling in love with him', just plain and definite 'I'm in love with him'. What was she going to do now? It was hitting her all over again, now she had confessed it, she would have to deal with it; either with a ton of ice cream, or a crate of wine. At least when it was just in her thoughts, she could brush it to one side.

"Oh my god," Caroline breathed out. "Wow, this is… wow. Oh my god,"

"Caroline, you're not helping." Elena whined with impatience.

"Right, I'm sorry!" Caroline straightened up. "Okay, I'm back."

Elena let out a loud groan and buried her head deep in her hands. "What am I going to do?"

A few moments of silence went by before Caroline made a reply. "Leave Frank," she suggested.

Elena lifted her head from its burial in her hands and looked at her best friend, wishing it could be that simple. Why couldn't things be that simple? Oh, that's right, because her life wasn't simple. It hadn't been in the same vicinity of simple from the moment her life turned upside down when she was 17 years old. "It's more complicated than that." She told her quietly.

"No it's not. You leave Frank, be with Damon."

"Damon would lose his job, Caroline." Elena pointed out one thing from a long list that could happen if she made it that simple.

"No he wouldn't. Frank can't just fire someone, especially not the companies CEO just because his fiancée ran off with that person. He has to have a reason."

"It's not just the job. It's everything. It's…"

"It's what?"

"What if it doesn't work out with Damon?"

"What if it does?"

Elena rose from the couch and ran a hand through her hair, crossing the apartment then turning back. "I can't. It's too complicated. There are too many risks."

"If it wasn't a risk, it wouldn't be worth it. Nothing would." Caroline also stood from the couch, rounded the large coffee table with the two large glasses of red wine she had readily made for Elena's arrival in her hands. The blonde-haired beauty reached her best friend and handed over the glass. "Now drink that, and tell me everything. All the gory details." As always, Caroline's wide smile was contagious.

Obviously she didn't tell her why it was so risky to choose Damon, she wanted to. She found herself at the point where she would rather it be out, but she felt she owed it Damon that she didn't tell anyone if she refused to tell him. All it took to distract Caroline from the 'risky business' was the details of her escapades with Damon, in his office, his apartment, the bathroom of the business party. To which she responded with girlish shrieks and excited claps of her hands.

It was a little past eleven when she was journeying back to her own apartment in the back of a cab, watching the city blur past on the other side of the window, her hands folded in her lap and her mind on Damon. And that was where it remained until her head moulded into the soft pillow of her king-sized bed and a warm slumber blanketed her senses.

* * *

><p>"Damon," Stefan called out to his older brother while following his lead down the corridor that led to their adjacent offices.<p>

Silence remained.

"Damon, come on." Stefan groaned desperately from behind. Damon hadn't been speaking him since he refused to turn down the job offer in Paris, and he planned on keeping it that way until Stefan agreed to refuse it. "You can't give me the silent treatment forever."

"Actually I can." Damon returned while slipping through to his office once satisfying his obsession with the one woman he could never have by shooting a glance over to his occupied PA desk, tailed by his younger brother's insistence.

"Damon," Stefan tried again. "Don't be such a child."

A scoff escaped Damon while slipping out of his black suit jacket and tossing it on the small leather couch placed against the left wall of his office. He wasn't being a child; he was _trying_ to look out for his younger brother, which he wasn't making an easy task for him. If he was honest, the silent treatment was the last desperate attempt at getting Stefan to listen, oh the irony.

"Fine, I'll stop acting like a child, when you turn down the job offer."

Stefan sighed. "It's already happening, I'm going to Paris and nothing's going to change it."

"Not if I chained you to a radiator."

"Damon,"

"Handcuffs or chains?"

"Damon." Stefan strained. "I really need you to just support me with this, I need my brother."

Damon took a few moments, the guilt along with his brotherly instincts overcoming the stubbornness set in his veins. "Okay, fine! Go to Paris, eat baguettes and chase French girls. But I am not being held responsible if you get hit by a cab and your brain falls out." He really shouldn't joke about such things, but he couldn't resist. Technically there shouldn't be anything for him to worry about, Elena had called off their involvement with one another, much to his despair, and therefore Frank shouldn't see him as a threat anymore. It wasn't probable, but still, he could hope. He frowned when it dawned on him how quickly his resolve had weakened. It used to be much firmer, yet it crumbled before his very eyes after a few minutes of Stefan's begging.

Damon fixed his eyes with Stefan's and found the emotion within the intense green tender. "Thank you," the gratitude in his voice along with the way he was looking at him made Damon's heart triple in size. He was going to miss him. The fact hit him hard, and he watched as Stefan left his office.

Stefan was his best friend, he had been for as long as he could recall, and now he was going to move to Paris. They would be countries apart. He wouldn't have anyone, only a career. No girlfriend, no family. The thought terrified him into paralysis, and although he wanted to get up off the edge of his desk, it was apparent that he couldn't due to the doubt he felt of whether or not he had the urge to go to put aside his pride and willingly accept that he and Elena go back to the way they had been for the last few weeks just because he didn't want to be alone. Yet underneath such a foolish notion, he knew better.

After minutes of wading through the doubts and reaching his genuine feelings, Damon forced his backside off the desk and ordered his feet to take him out into the corridor. Only to be turned back around by the decision that it was probably best he didn't bare his feelings to her at work, or he was being a chicken. Either way, he wasn't doing it right now.

His worries remained two hours ahead, along with the firm creases in his forehead. When had he started worrying? He was usually so laid back. Of course he had no choice; everyone seemed to be piling on things for him to worry about. And they all somehow involved Frank. A soft knock against his office door served as a much needed distraction from his worries, and he immediately called for them to come in. The door opened but Elena remained in the doorway, not daring to take a step further.

"There's a woman here for you." She shifted uncomfortably and her eyes looked anywhere but at him.

"Okay, send her in." he replied.

A quick tuck of her hair behind her ear and a nod of her head, then she was gone.

Damon blew out in vexation. A few days ago they were ravaging one another in this very room, how did things get so cold and awkward? Ah yes, because he just _needed_ the truth from her, that's how. He stood and collected his thoughts before looking to the door for the unexpected visitor.

"Oh god, what are you doing here?" Damon asked with annoyance.

A chuckle passed the pouted lips of the woman closing the door of his office behind her before she turned to eye him. "I'm here on Katherine's behalf."

"Oh great," he huffed. "What is it now? She needs a sacrifice for her hell hounds?"

"She wants you to meet with her."

"Why; having money problems is she?" He questioned smartly, though he could care less. She didn't get any money out of him when they broke up and she wasn't getting any now.

"No,"

"Oh, come on Isobel. We both know Katherine only cares about two things, money and herself."

Isobel was Katherine's conniving best friend, but would never match Katherine's level of manipulation, which gave her the role of lackey instead of side-kick.

"Well you can add one more thing to that list now."

"And what's that?"

"You'll just have to meet her tonight and find out."

He sighed and finally asked in defeat. "Where?"

"Lloyds."

Lloyds? How could Katherine or Isobel possibly know about Lloyds? Neither of them lived in the city, as far as he knew anyway. Just as he opened his mouth to ask exactly that, Isobel turned and disappeared from his office. Well, there's another worry to add to the pile, which put the talk with Elena at the bottom, for now. At least until he dealt with Katherine. The last thing he wanted was Elena and Katherine coming face to face. _That_ would not end well.


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note: **So I did it again, I set off on the chapter determined that this would be longer and then I got to a point where I thought 'Hmmm this would be an excellent point to move onto the next chapter'. so once again, I'm so sorry! But I promise I'll try to get the next one up ASAP. So when I heard Ed Sheeran being played on last weeks episode, I almost squealed, and then again earlier when I found out 'Poison and Wine' is being played on tonights episode. WAAAAH. My emotions will be all over the place if it plays on a Damon and Elena scene. So I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I can't thank you guys enough for sticking with the story and all the support, and the amazing the reviews and favourites. It really means so much. So enjoy! xxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>15<strong>

"_All I want is the taste that your lips allow. My, my, my, my, _

_Oh, give me love." – __**Ed Sheeran.**_

He had finally finished work and found no reason to make a pit-stop at his apartment to change; therefore made an entrance into Lloyds with his black suit still intact along with the begrudging feeling of hatred in his stomach he'd had towards Katherine since they broke up. He spotted her without need of a second glance around the bar, and made his way through the small gather of people until he was at her side. Casually resting his elbow on the bar and doing a once over of her appearance, he was surprised to find that he felt no attraction to her any longer. Even after they broke up, he still found her sexy and beautiful, because she was. But now, he didn't feel anything. Which was completely ironic since she held a striking resemblance to the woman that made his heart pick up pace, and his body ache with arousal in all the right places. All he could figure was they might look similar but were completely different people. As if sensing his presence, Katherine turned, her eyes flashing and smile seductive.

"Katherine," He greeted her coolly.

The smiled widened into an almost predatory one but Damon remained unfazed. "You came."

"Apparently," He returned flat.

Her lip jutted out and her almost black eyes feigned hurt in regards to his tone, before she slid closer to him, their bodies almost touching. He held his ground, the last thing he wanted was her thinking she still had any type of effect on him. "What do you want, Katherine?"

"What makes you think I want anything?" The innocence she purposely forced into her voice made Damon want to roll his eyes because she was anything but innocent, the opposite more like.

He forced a smirk. "You always want something."

"Mm, and if I remember correctly, you were always more than willing to give it to me." She purred.

"That's what this is about; sex?" He asked in outrage and watched as she bit her lip seductively, along with a small nod of her head. "You are unbelievable." He muttered while pushing away from the bar and turning to leave. She soon swept in front of him, blocking his exit from the bar.

"Come on, I'm bored, you're bored." Katherine tried.

His brow furrowed as he looked down at her. "We're broken up."

"That didn't stop you before." She returned with a smile full of mischief.

As much as it repulsed him to admit it, she was right. He hadn't stopped sleeping with her after they broke up, even though he hated her with a passion. And that's exactly what it was, hate. The sex hadn't been filled with closeness, or just regular sex, it was hate-filled, and done out of boredom.

"Well, I'm not interested anymore." He slipped around her with success, and returned to the path towards the exit he created moments ago, only to be stopped once again by the call out of her voice.

"Because of Elena," Katherine prowled around his stilled frame, her finger running along his chest until coming to a stop in front of him. "Does it get you off? That she looks like me?" Her breathy snigger was condescending. She leant up until her lips touched upon his earlobe. "Do you pretend it's me when you're fucking her?"

"No, that would make me soft." He whispered venomously, used his hand to nudge her to one side and stalked from the bar, the courage he couldn't seem to create earlier on in the day suddenly more than willing to aid him in talking to Elena. If he was going to talk to her, he was going to do it now. Buttoning his suit jacket and setting his determined travels down the street that led to her apartment, he felt to fire of his anger slowly cooling. He hadn't even asked the most important question of all; how did everyone know about him and Elena sleeping together? And by everyone he meant; Frank and Katherine. Two completely unconnected people somehow knew. The only places he had slept with her was his office, and his apartment, also that one time at her apartment. He could admit, the office wasn't exactly the smartest idea he'd ever had, it was right under Frank's nose, but still, how would Katherine know? Or had she guessed, and he stupidly confirmed it moments ago? He couldn't help but realise everything had turned into a conspiracy theory as the building that contained Elena's apartment came into view. Turning into the building and taking the steps while running a hand through his tousled hair, he made the prediction that she would be reading or watching trashy television. One of those she would without a doubt be doing when he came back from work to his apartment the week they had nothing to worry about, except for missing each other when they had to separate. He gave a soft few raps on the door and hoped Frank didn't just happen to be there.

She pulled open the door in her tiny silk robe, and he could tell there was nothing underneath with one look. He desperately wanted to groan but he somehow managed to keep it contained, and instead of tracing her flawless body, he fixed his gaze on her face.

"Damon, what are you-

He held up a hand to stop her going any further and her mouth popped shut in compliance before she stepped to one side to let him in. He moved inside and turned to watch her shut the door while unbuttoning his jacket and slipping out of it. She eyed his actions with suspicion, forcing him to hold his hands up in motion that he wasn't going to touch her. As much as he wanted to, he wouldn't.

"My brother's leaving for Paris," He let out almost breathlessly. What was it about her that made him at a loss for oxygen, or even words sometimes? She made him want to be a better man, a man that deserved her. That was something he had never had the urge to be, not for a woman. "I don't want to be alone."

Her face softened and she approached him, every move and sway of her body he watched before realizing he needed to continue.

"I'll let it go; I don't need to know everything. I just need you." He told her, assuming she was going to continue her venture towards him until their bodies met so when she stopped a few inches away, he couldn't help but feel disappointed.

Elena shook her head weakly. "Damon, this isn't right. We can't just keep doing _whatever this is_ just because you don't want to be alone."

"But that's the thing, it's not just because I don't want to be alone. I thought that's what it was, but it's not. It's because of you that I don't want to be alone anymore. It feels physically impossible for me to be able to ever be alone again when I know you're out there, I have to be with you." He lifted a hand to cup her face with tender. "So I'm willing to forget the secrets and your past, I don't care. Because if me wanting to know means us not being able to be together, then I don't want to know, I'd rather have you, secrets and all, than not."

"It's not fair to you." She said barely above a whisper.

He took his hand from the side of her face and touched his fingers to her lips, preventing her from going any further. "I don't care about what's fair."

"But-

He silenced her with an eager kiss, to which she parted her lips almost instantaneously to permit his tongue to slide into a passionate meeting with hers as she ran her fingers into his raven hair, gripping him to her with insistence and forming their bodies into one. Damon felt her nipples become stiff peaks against his chest, proving him almost right in assuming that she did indeed have nothing on underneath the robe. Snaking his hand down her body and underneath the silk robe, he found her completely bare and couldn't stop the small groan from escaping as he touched upon the slick flesh of her clit. It was true that it was hard for him to keep his control around her, but it seemed to have gotten worse. He felt like he was going to explode if he didn't have her as quickly as humanly possible, which he could probably blame on the fact that he hadn't had her for days. Running a firm drag of his finger along the length of her clit until he found her core and dove straight in, a more than satisfied smile erupted across his lips when she let out an aroused moan into his mouth and tightened the grip on him even more. He forced his finger to pump in and out of her as quick and skilful he could manage before he felt her walls clench and she cried out. Breaking the kiss and picking her up like she was no more than the weight of a pillow, he carried her towards the bed with the secure lock of her legs around his waist and lowered her down onto the sheets and didn't pause in getting on top of her. Glad to find that the robe had loosened around her body due to the heavy friction of his against it, he bent down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it with eager and purposely grinding his pants covered erection against her throbbing core. Elena gave out a groan and went for his shirt with impatience, her slender hands easily ridding him of it and throwing it to one side before leaning up to reunite their lips while her fingers traced the muscles of his torso until they found their destination; his pants. She popped open the button and dragged down the zipper with ease, her hand taking his hard length in a delicious friction the moment it dove into the confines of his pants.

"I need you inside me." She murmured against his lips before taking one in between her teeth. He moaned as she stroked him, mixed with her breathy moans and the things she was saying; it was surely going to make him explode. Swatting her hands away and angling the tip of his erection at her entrance, he put both hands on the bed at the each side of her head and kept an intent trace of her face as he slid inside the wet heat he hadn't experience for what felt like an eternity. Her mouth went agape and a more than satisfied groan fell out, her legs tightened around him along with her walls and he began to move. He pulled out of her entirely and thrust back inside, another groan spilling from her. His hands gripped the sheets beneath their writhing bodies as he powerfully drove in and out of her, the desperate and frenzied moans serving as encouragement. He felt her fingers rake up his back, then back down and settle on the curve of his backside, the firm press of her heels and palms against it instinctively forcing his thrusts inside her to become harder and faster, allowing him to realise that no matter what was said, she wanted him as much as he wanted her, she had yearned for him, he could tell by the way her body was reacting to every touch, every thrust.

"Damon," the mixture of his name on her lips in such a passionate cry along with the tightening of her walls around him, was all it took to throw him over the edge and into the sea of complete ecstasy. His face went into the crook of her neck and hands found their way into the silk tresses of her hair as they simultaneously worked on controlling their ragged breathing. She sighed and let her legs fall from around his hips, the partial abandon of her limbs clung around him creating a small feeling of loss.

He nuzzled deeper into her neck, left a kiss there then carefully slipped out of her, the feeling of loss increasing by the second. His forehead went to hers allowing their eyes to lock and even breathing to mix. He traced every part of her face, the warm chocolate eyes, the pouted lips, the perfectly shaped nose, then his eyes landed on something abnormal; a bruise.

"Elena," retrieving his hand from its burial in her hair and cupping her face where a dark bruise resided on the cheekbone, he saw what he was dreading; she winced. "What the hell is this?" He asked, his anger rising.

Her fingers went straight to it, as if to hide it and she squirmed away from him once he got up. Her climb from the bed was clumsy, and he knew she had intended to hide it from everyone, including him.

"Elena," he tried again, this time rounding the bed as she refastened her robe and pushed her hair from her face. His hand went to her face in a tender and careful touch, his thumb stroking the damaged flesh while his eyes caught the embarrassment evident in hers. "Tell me what happened." He demanded.

"Nothing, it was an accident." She replied flustered.

"_That _was an accident?" he scoffed in doubt of her feeble answer. "That's not an accident, Elena. _That_ is a direct punch to the face."

Damon took her chin between his fingers and moved her face to the side, inspecting the area of injury. It was deepening but not entirely developed yet, allowing him the assumption that she could've only gotten it in the last few days. She pulled away from him and turned around.

"It's nothing." She murmured.

His primary thought was that she gotten in a fight with another girl on a night out or something along those lines, but now he collected everything together, the size of the bruise, the way she hid it, the embarrassment, he knew without a second thought that was a punch from a man.

"Did Frank do that to you?" His face twisted in disgust and outrage at the thought of Frank hitting her. Frank was twice the size of her, not to mention twice as old. He closed the distance between them again and turned her around to face him, the sight of the dark purple bruise making him nauseous.

"Damon, please-

"He did, didn't he?"

She made no reply, just looked up at him with sad eyes.

"Elena, tell me." he pressed with increased determination. "Did he hit you?"

A small nod of her head came after a few long moments and tears spilled from her doe eyes. Anger erupted within him and he abruptly let go of her arm, aiming for the recovery of his clothes.

"What are you doing?" her voice still held its pleading.

"I'm going to show Frank what it feels like to break every bone in his body." He replied nonchalantly, trying his best to keep a lid on his growing anger that threatened to spill out before he reached Frank. With swift movements he pulled on his pants then grabbed his shirt, only to be forced into a pause as Elena took hold of his arm.

"Please don't." She begged, her grip of both hands on his arm tightening. "I need you, please don't leave."

"You can't expect me to do nothing about this, Elena." he said darkly. "Don't ask me to be a coward for you."

He tried to pull his arm loose but she effectively kept him to her. "I'm not asking you to be a coward, I'm asking you to stay with me."

"Elena,"

"Please, I need you." The pleading of her voice and the emotion in her eyes weakened him, making his hand loosen its hold on his shirt and let it drop to the floor. He took the hand that gripped his arm and interlaced their fingers, his other hand returning to her face with caution. She leaned into his touch and let out a small breath he assumed she had been holding from the moment he discovered the bruise.

"Does it hurt?" he asked softly.

She shook her head in reply before adding a small murmur. "Not really."

From what he could understand, she was telling the truth. He hadn't seen or heard her complain about the pain, the only occasion she winced was when he pressed on it too hard after noticing it a few minutes ago. Other than that, she didn't seem in any pain at all. Her hand covered his and she used their interlaced fingers to pull him back towards the bed, until lowering herself onto it and breaking their contact to shift up the bed, and he naturally followed. His arm went around her back, his hand taking rest on her newly exposed hip while her body moulded into the side of his, her head relaxed onto his chest and her fingers traced the lines of his torso.

"You can't do anything about this." she said in a whisper.

His head cocked to the side but failed in finding her face, only the length of her eyelashes as she watched the soft movement her fingers made on his chest.

"Elena," he had intended it to come out as a soft warning but instead it came out as more of a complaint. "I'm not going to stand by and do nothing."

She twisted onto her stomach and looked at him. "It's not worth losing your job."

"That's where we disagree."

"Damon, you love your job." She reasoned. He lifted his hand to brush it through the perfect waves of her hair and lightly shook his head. It was this moment; he knew without a doubt, he was in love with her. Unknown to why he hadn't realised it sooner, he had known and admitted that he didn't want anyone else but her, yet the thought had never crossed his mind that he was in love with her. He had been in love before, it wasn't like he didn't know how it felt; it just seemed so much more with Elena. It was somehow deeper, a meeting of souls, even. This was the moment, the moment he needed to tell her, the same moment he had realised it.

"I love you more."

Her eyes widened and he leant up with the aid of his forearms, also forcing her upwards as her eyes scanned his face for what he only assumed was some sort of uncertainty of what he just said. She would find none. That he was undoubtedly sure of. "You, what?" she finally managed.

"I love you."

"No," she shook her head with weak motions that soon became fierce, moved further from him as if he had burned her and clambered from the bed, tightening her robe in the process.

"Elena," He tried.

"You can't do that."

"Do what? Love you?" he couldn't stop the chuckle escaping while rising from the bed and moving towards her. "I don't think you get a choice."

"Well I order a take back then." She said clumsily, aiming for the bathroom door with backwards shuffling in a desperate act to keep the space between them as he attempted to close it.

"A take back?" He chuckled again. "What are we, twelve?"

She made a dash into the bathroom and slammed the door, the click of the lock sounding; effectively separating them before he could interject it, though he did try his best.

"Elena, open the door." He requested through the door, once again feeling stupid he was having a conversation through wood, especially one as important as this.

"No." She called back with firm.

"Elena," he strained.

"You have to take it back."

Damon sighed heavily. "I'm not taking it back."

She wanted him to take back the three words women loved to hear? They should be having sex right now, not conversing through her bathroom door. Now he was more than ever convinced she was not like any other woman. Woman loved to hear they were loved did they not? But then again, they weren't exactly in a normal situation of boyfriend and girlfriend where they could confess these kinds of feelings without there being consequences. He pressed his forehead to the cold wood before trying again. "Elena, would you please come out?"

"Not until you take it back."

"Then you're going to be in there a long time."

"Fine,"

"Fine,"

Turns out, she was much more stubborn than he was. After fifteen or twenty minutes he had caved, and returned to requesting she come out of the bathroom and talk about it. And every time she refused. Finally deciding his demands weren't going to be met, Damon flopped down onto the king-sized bed that still held the essence of their passionate sex, and waited. What could she possibly be doing in there? There was absolutely nothing to do in a bathroom, except shower, or bathe. If that's what she was doing, it was even worse, when he could be in there with her, lathering her naked body with soap and feeling her up at the same time. This was ridiculous. She was holding herself prisoner inside her own bathroom because he told her he loved her? Why? Did she not feel the same or anything for him at all? He grabbed a pillow and held it to his face in frustration, the groan that escaped stifled before he tossed it away and climbed from his sprawl on the bed, returning to the bathroom door.

"Elena, I know I sort of sprung this on you. And I'm sorry if it overwhelmed you, but I can't be sorry that I said it because I do, I love you. I don't know if it grew, or if it had always been there and it just took me a while to realise. So there it is; I love you, Elena. I don't know if you feel in any way the same, though by your reaction, I'd say no, and if you want me to take it back then that's what I'll do. I'll do that for you."

Without any indication, the lock unclicked and the door opened, revealing Elena; her eyes glassy and her smile sad as she moved towards him, her head shaking weakly.

"No," she said.

"No?"

"I don't want you to take it back," she told him while lifting her hand to touch his face. "I don't want you to guess about my past or my tie to Frank, I don't want you to settle for the lies just because you can't bear to be away from me as much as I can't bear to be away from you. I want you to know, and I want to be the one to tell you."

He didn't know how to feel. Happy? Relieved she was finally ready to tell the truth? Yet all he realised was it was his turn to be overwhelmed. What was he supposed to say? 'Thank you'? 'Okay, go ahead and tell me all about your past and how you became trapped into a relationship with Frank Miller'? Or maybe just;

"Okay."

She gave him a small smile, took her hand from his face, replaced it in his hand and led him to the bed. Like his whole body was on autopilot and completely not ready for what she was going to tell him, he stared blankly at her and wondered if he was going to be able to handle it. Then, she looked at him, _really_ looked at him, like no one ever had except for her, like she was seeing every part of him, his heart, soul, and he remembered why he had wanted her to tell him for so long. Of course he could handle it. He _would_ handle it however bad it was because he loved her. "Okay," he echoed his words from only a few seconds before, except this time they held meaning. "Tell me."

Elena took a deep breath. "So, I should probably start from the beginning."


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note: **I was and still am so nervous about this chapter. Thats probably one of the reasons I couldnt seem to write it. Its really one of the most important to me because I've had her past figured out from the beginning and although its not a disappointment to me, I really hope its not to you guys. I am literally SO NERVOUS about posting it. Well anyway, I'm off to bed! I hope, hope, hope you enjoy and I can't thank you enough for all the support and reviews and everything. OH, and I'm still working on my new story, but I sort of have this weird thing where I have to finish one thing before starting another. haha. WELL AU REVOIR DARLINGS xxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>16<strong>

"_There's a big difference, I discovered, between wanting to die and not wanting to live. When you want to die, you at least have a goal. When you don't want to live, you're really just empty." – __**Marilyn Manson.**_

"_So, I should probably start from the beginning."_

She was nervous, he could tell, not just by the way her voice shook or her hands wrung together almost painfully, but her eyes; they were scared. Knowing a sentence such as 'calm down' or 'it's okay' would never make it any easier, he took her hand and gave it a light comforting squeeze.

"My dad died when I was fifteen years old," she stated. "I guess that's when everything got bad, I never got along with my mother; we were too different. So when my dad died, I was… lost. It didn't take her long to find a substitute for my father, and that, I hated her for. It wasn't as if she had the excuse of being in love, because there was a string of them, every weekend there would be a different one. Then Derek came along. He was sweet, kind and handsome, just like my dad, or that's what I thought." Although the sincerity in her voice was evident in regards to the man she was referring to, the hint of venom was also omissible. "I had just turned sixteen when my mother claimed she was head over heels in love with him, and insisted he move in the house with us. Obviously I was fine with it, anything to not have to be alone in the house with her day after day." Her head hung and she murmured with a small voice full of sadness. "What I would give to have had that for all these years instead of..."

Damon gave her hand another reassuring squeeze that he was still there, waited for her head to rise and her mouth continue with its confession. "It started with harmless flirty comments that any inexperienced girl that age would see as exactly that; harmless. Then, it turned into inappropriate touching, he would run a hand up my arm, or my leg when we were alone, or tell me I was beautiful. The idiot I was, I was flattered."

He cringed at the image she was painting, along with the prediction his mind had already made on what happened between her and her mother's boyfriend. Still, he wouldn't freak out. Not right now, she needed him to be strong for her, to just listen.

"It went on like that for a while until one night, my mother had to stay late at work, and he kissed me." Her chocolate brown eyes searched his face for some sort of revulsion, or wariness to her continuing, he didn't know which, but he knew it wasn't there.

"And I let him." Still her eyes searched him. "It was my first kiss." She revealed much to his surprise. How had she not been kissed until she was sixteen years old? If she looked anything like she did now, any boy with eyes should've been throwing themselves at her. What was he doing? He was going over her physical attractiveness and the puzzling conundrum of her not being kissed until she was sixteen, instead he should be shocked by the fact that her first kiss was from a man who claimed to love her mother, and who had been twice her age.

"I think people take for granted how important your firsts are. Somehow it made me instantly feel attached to this man in a relationship with my own mother. I found myself becoming obsessed, jealous even, when they would be together, because he made me feel safe, for the first time since my dad died, he made me feel cherished." A weak shake of her head followed, along with a glassing of her eyes. "I should have known better."

It was only the beginning, by the sinking feeling in his stomach, he could tell it was about to get worse and it was getting difficult for him to hold it together, and by the looks of things, so was it for her. A small sniffle escaped and her eyes went back to their trace of her hands clasped tightly together, before she soldiered on.

"It went on like that for a while, month's maybe, I don't know, and I became convinced I was in love with him, more so than my mother ever could be. Of course I assumed we would sleep together sooner or later, but he would tell me it was better to wait. I wasn't really sure why he wanted to, not until after. Anyway, the more time went on, I fell even deeper. Of course, the inevitable happened; my mother found out. She was so," he saw her brow furrow as her gaze remained on her hands, as if she couldn't look him in the eye as she revealed her story to him. "angry." She finally said. "Of course she was angry; her own daughter was sleeping with her boyfriend. Who does that?"

"I remember her saying 'What would your father think?' and I just broke down. I had to get out of there, I couldn't stay in that house, where my father had brought me up, and where I'd done _that,_ but I had nowhere to go, no family, no way of living, so when Derek offered to take me away, I accepted. It was fight or flight, and I flew. I know; why would you ever go away with the person who you had such a shameful affair with? I guess rationale goes out the window when you think you're in love, or when you're desperate. I can't make any excuse, I can't put the blame on anyone because I should've made better choices, and I regret it every second of every day."

"What happened when you left with him?" Damon asked.

"I guess it's safe to say Frank wasn't the first man to convince me of a better life to come, and then leave me disappointed and regretful. Derek told me he was taking me somewhere we could have a life together, make a future because he loved me, what I didn't expect was he had already promised that to another handful of young girls, who he had cleverly gathered into a large four story house in Paradise to sell to any paying customer for a night, or mostly a few hours, depending on how much money they offered. And I was to be added to the herd."

"I didn't get on board willingly, not like the other girls seemed to be, I never considered they were scared of Derek, because well, I couldn't understand why anyone would be scared of him, he was too sweet and caring. Turns out that was just part of the act. I demanded he tell me what was going on, I was sixteen, I didn't know about brothels or anything of that kind, so naturally I was horrified when he told me what he expected of me and told him to take me back home. That was when I found out why all the other girls were so willing to fall in line."

Damon felt something grow with intensity in the pit of his stomach; rage, and disgust. Not with Elena, but with the potential evil in people. He didn't know if he wanted to know the details of what he did to make her fall in line, somehow he needed to.

His hand went to her cheek and forced their eyes to lock, allowing her to receive the silent urge to continue, to tell him everything, even if it did hurt him to know. He couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting her, that being the reason he lost it when he realised what Frank had done to her.

"He made an example out of me in front of the other girls, said it was a reminder as to why they do as they're told, but obviously for me, it was just the beginning. You're probably wondering why we didn't just all leave, but not only did we have nothing to leave for, we had no money, no way of finding a way home, he made sure we were too scared to try and leave, and just in case, he had men guard our rooms at night along with each exit of the brothel. It was also their job to make sure none of the customers got too rough with us. After a while, you don't even consider leaving because what's the point?"

"He told me what I'd be doing and I was terrified, so much that I couldn't hold down the nausea in my stomach. I had never been with anyone, and I was expected to let a stranger be my first, for money of all things. I was disgusted in myself; how I had gotten caught up in something like that, and it was all because of what I did behind my mother's back. Somehow I knew I deserved it, it was my penance."

"So, I stayed, I didn't try to run, or fight him on what he expected of us, I buried everything I was, or who I used to be, the person my father raised me to be, and I embraced prostitution."

"I tried not to think about what my father would think, because if I did, I knew I wouldn't be able to deal with it. I knew something would click within me and I would decide there was nothing worth living for anymore. Not that I felt there was anything I was living for anyway, because there wasn't, I was nothing, just an embarrassment. I got to a really dark place after I turned eighteen, I would think about what my life would have been; would I have a boyfriend, close friends? It took me a while to realize how empty I actually felt, how numb. I would lie awake at night after the last customer was gone, feeling dirty under my skin, or sit under the running shower, and pray that it wash everything away, or take me down the drain with it. I would wonder if I had the guts to take that step, to tie a rope around my neck, or swallow an endless amount of pills, and then everything would be over, I begged for that kind of courage day after day, just to get some peace, to rid of the black hole eating away at me, the guilt, the shame. Then, Frank came along."

"He would only ever ask for me when he came to visit, and we soon became close, which was extremely unusual, they usually just wanted sex then straight away they were gone, but Frank, he seemed to care about me, guess that's not true anymore."

He noticed she wasn't crying, yet describing something so dark would break a person down, yet she remained unaffected. As if she was telling the most casual story in the world, no tear escaped her eyes and no sob flew past her lips.

"He began offering to take me away, and although I was desperate to, I had learnt my lesson not to trust anyone, no matter how desperate I was. So I turned it down, for months he kept asking, saying he thought I deserved better, that he could give me a better life. Still I would say no, while inside I was is pleading for his promises to be genuine. I guess I just wanted someone to care, to look after me. So I was set in the idea I wouldn't leave with Frank, until one of the men decided to get too rough with me, I tried to cry out for help after begging him to stop but it never made it past his hand over my mouth. I couldn't call it rape because I was a whore after all, I sold my body for sex; I wasn't an innocent. What else would you expect from someone you barely know? Derek told me I should be grateful he didn't do worse. That's when it became too much, I packed what I needed, told Frank I would go with him and managed to convince the other girls to help me sneak out after dark by creating a distraction so I could make a run for it."

Damon was rendered speechless. He didn't think he had a reaction to give at that moment, how had he not picked up on any of this? He didn't have one clue that was how bad her past had been, or that was what led her to the situation with Frank. Though he didn't agree with her choice to be with Frank, that's exactly what it was; a choice which she had made due to desperation or fear of going back to a life of being used, of feeling like nothing. He didn't have to contemplate the idea that she was terrified of trusting him. He had promised her everything Frank had, therefore he couldn't blame her for not accepting, especially after she was manipulated twice, both times proven that men with hidden agendas could never be trusted. She was protecting herself. What baffled him was how she blamed herself. She was convinced it was her own fault, the affair she had with her mother's boyfriend, the way she was practically tossed into prostitution, she had allowed her body to be used by countless men because she thought she deserved it.

"Elena," he brushed the stray hair from her face, only to be shaken off and abandoned on the bed as she stood from it.

"You don't have to say anything." her eyes never met his. "You probably want to use that take back now, right?" she forced a weak chuckle and took further steps away from him as he rose from the bed. He realised that this was the reason she refused to tell him for so long, not only was she cautious of what Frank would do if she ever tried to leave, she was scared he would look at her differently, that he wouldn't want her. Just like all those men had looked at her like she was nothing more than a whore, who only wanted her for sex, and afterwards couldn't care less. Of course he wasn't going to take back what he said, everyone had a past, hers maybe darker than others but it didn't make him want her, or love her any less. If possible, his feelings had strengthened. She amazed him, even with everything she had been through, she was one of the most together and strong people he had ever come across. He moved towards her, satisfied that she had come to a stop, allowing their flesh to meet through the touch of his hand to her cheek.

Damon shook his head ever so slightly. "No take backs."

Her eyes widened in wonder and her fingers encircled his wrist of the hand that held her face. "Everything I did…" her voice broke.

"Doesn't matter," the shake of his head was stronger this time, the unmoving feeling of certainty that resided within represented through each twist.

"How can it not?" Elena's face twisted and a single tear finally escaped, only to be stopped from completing its run down her face by the pad of Damon's thumb.

"Because I love you." He purposely emphasized the words in attempt to make her understand. "Don't you get it? Love doesn't just disappear because you told me you got manipulated into something."

"But I-

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "Had a choice," he finished. "Maybe so, but the way I see it, you were vulnerable, and he knew that, you had just lost your father for God's sake, even if you were forty years old, do you realise how fragile someone is after a loss like that? You said yourself, you were lost. You didn't have a chance at fighting with an expert manipulator who was convincing you he was there for you, that he loved you. I don't care how strong someone is, everyone has a weakness, and that was yours." Her grasp tightened around his wrist and she relaxed into his touch. "You needed someone, it just so happened that the wrong person was there."

She gave out a sigh of relief. "I thought…"

"I know." He said softly, soon followed by; "You don't have to worry about that."

Damon knew that he hadn't had any real impact on relieving the guilt from weighing her down; he doubted anything would, but he had to convince her that he wasn't going anywhere if she was willing to give him a chance, no matter what happened between them. He was pretty sure there was no choice anymore because it was beyond definite that he didn't want anything more than he wanted her, the only reason he would walk away was if she asked him to.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Well, I can't force you to leave Frank, or to be with me, it's your decision."

* * *

><p><em>It's your decision.<em>

The problem was, she didn't know what decision to make. She knew what her heart wanted, what her body wanted; Damon, and only Damon. But self-doubt was screaming at her not to give in to the extreme draw between them because it would ultimately lead her astray. The difference between her past experiences and the current one with Damon was she wasn't acting out of desperation or naïve delusions of love, this was love. She had never known what being in love was before, she knew that now, she knew it with every fibre of her being that what she had felt for Derek was nothing compared to what she felt for Damon. She had only thought she was in love with Derek because he seemed to fill the gaping hole in her that was created the moment her father died. So if she was in love with Damon, why hadn't she told him?

Elena had been lying in bed for what seemed like hours, which was actually only forty five minutes, her eyes tracing the white ceiling and her fingers running soft lines up and down the fingers of Damon's stilled hand. She was conflicted, but still a smile grew on her lips at the sound of soft breathing next to her. If someone ever asked what her favourite sound in the world was; that was it. The peaceful breaths of the man she loved next to her while their bodies lay tangled, his hand resting on her bare stomach, his head on the pillow next to hers, her skin masked with his breath, each one followed by an eruption of goose bumps. She wanted this, she wanted to choose him. But if she did, what would be the consequences?

Damon stirred from the deep slumber and tightened his hold on her body; effectively pulling her tight to him, then fell straight back to sleep. Why couldn't she have this; because she didn't deserve it? Because she made a bad decision, put her trust in men who hadn't earned it? She seemed to willingly hand herself over whenever they fed her empty promises. Would it be any different with Damon? A part of her knew it would be, the part that was ruled by the love she had for him, while another part wasn't so sure. She didn't doubt for a second that he loved her, or cared about her, but would he always feel that way? No one could ever be sure of that. It was a mystery to her as to why his feelings remained the same; she was expecting him to run in the other direction as soon as she told him everything. But here he was; sharing a bed with her. Still, the doubts seemed to nibble away at her. Most things in life were temporary, youth, beauty, happiness. What if his love for her found the same fate? Maybe he would wake up in the morning and realise the disgust he actually felt towards her for everything she'd done.

As if sensing her worries, he stirred once more, this time his eyes fluttered open and brown met the intense blue. He gave her a heavy-eyed smile and murmured a soft "Hi,"

"Hi." Elena returned while rolling onto her side to match his position, forcing their noses to graze.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Just thinking,"

"Then stop."

A soft chuckle left her before she watched his eyes close once more and extended a hand to move the strands of midnight hair from his glorious face.

"You're not stopping." He mumbled.

"It's not that easy." She explained.

"Mm," his eyes opened and he leaned in until their lips were almost touching, the sensation that her body received felt almost euphoric. He was barely touching her, and as always, she felt on fire. "What if I do this?" His lips touched upon hers with a softness that quickly turned into something deeper as her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers went into his hair, their bodies colliding in a fever.

_Oh he definitely knew how to make her mind go blank. _

But she had important things to think through, and the soft massage of Damon's tongue with hers wasn't helping. Most importantly, she needed to prepare herself for his possible departure in the morning, not widening her legs once he rolled on top of her to allow him access.

With the small hint of strength she could muster even with the distraction of his hands and lips that seemed everywhere at once.

"Damon," she tried.

"Mm-hmm," Open mouthed kisses had landed upon the sensitive spot of her neck while his hand travelled leisurely down her body.

"I don't think we should…"

A mischief filled grin could be felt against her lips and his fingers found their way to a testing dip into her core. "Your body thinks different."

A short moan was triggered by his finger sliding the rest of the way in, to only be retracted just as quickly and substituted with the quick insertion of his penis until she was filled entirely. Her reaction was always the same, yet somehow its intensity increased with each time, her eyes rolled back, a moan flew from her mouth and her legs tightened around his hips.

Well, if he was going to come to his senses and leave in the morning; this would be the last time they may be together, so the least she could do was embrace it.

* * *

><p>Elena woke to a trail of soft kisses being placed along the line from her shoulder to her neck, where they transformed into gentle nibbles and an arm pulled her body tight against another. Once she had completely awakened, a smile ran over her features and a content moan left her mouth.<p>

"You're still here." She realised.

"Where else would I get my supply of morning sex?" he said against her skin.

"_Technically _you already got it."

"Don't tease."

She shifted around until their foreheads were touching and every line, curve of the front of their bodies met. "But it's fun." Her lower lip protruded.

"I'll eat that."

"I dare you." She challenged, misinterpreting the run of his hand over her ribs as intimate until his fingers began attacking every ticklish spot of her torso, causing her to violently wriggle and laugh from the moment he pinned her down until finally letting go and allowing her body release.

It had been a week since she told Damon everything about her past, and still she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and still he was waiting for her to make a decision. He hadn't said anything, but she knew every day he grew more anxious for her answer while she grew more agitated for the morning she would wake up in his bed and he wouldn't be there, only a note that read 'sorry'. That's how it went didn't it? Or that's how she pictured it would go. She had barely seen Frank over the past week but couldn't seem to worry; she was too busy wallowing in how selfish she was being.

His fingers traced her forehead. "What're you thinking?"

"Nothing." she lied.

"Liar," he gave his cocky half-smirk.

"I'm selfish." She finally said.

"What?"

"I know you're waiting for me to make a decision."

There was no immediate response, only a small nod which led his gaze to avert from her, and stay there. He was withdrawing; she could feel it in every sense with her eyes now staring at nothing and her naked body catching the chill of the apartment when he moved off of her and to the edge of the bed. She also sat up and shifted across the bed, her arms and legs encircling him from behind as her chin went to his shoulder.

"It's getting harder to be understanding." He revealed gloomily.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are."

Elena placed a kiss where her chin had just been, then preceded in her travels downwards until she could go no further, allowed her hands to take over and run the length of his bare back before sliding them around to the front to trace his abs. "I'd choose you, if things were simpler."

Damon sighed. "That doesn't make it easier, Elena."

"What do you want me to do?"

He pulled from the vice her limbs created around his body and stood, apparently unfazed by their matching nakedness. "I want you to tell me why it's so hard for you to make this decision."

"We've already been through this." She grabbed the discarded shirt from the floor and slipped into it.

"I might lose my job, that's why you won't be with me?"

"I don't understand why you care so little about it. It's your job!"

"It's _one_ job, Elena. There are _plenty_ of jobs."

She rose from the bed and watched as he pulled on a pair of joggers; relieved that the entirety of his naked body was now partially covered therefore they could have a discussion without becoming distracted by that amazing body of his.

"Look, it's not just about you losing your job; it's a lot of things, there are so many reasons why we shouldn't be together." she watched his face fall at her remark and instantly regretted it. In attempt to prove it wasn't what she meant, she approached him, but when he recreated the space with a step backwards, she tried actually saying the words. "I didn't mean that."

When he made no reply, she decided to continue. "It's just… we don't know what's going to happen."

"Nothing is going to happen, Elena." He exclaimed in annoyance. "It's been more than a week since Frank told you he knew about us. He's not going to do anything."

"We don't know that."

"We can't know," Damon objected. "You know what I think? I think you're using everything else as an excuse to hide the fact that you're terrified to take a chance with me."

Her eye-line fell and she tucked her hair behind her ears. He was right. She was terrified, so much that it seemed to paralyse her from taking a step towards the one thing she wanted more than anything. She wanted to believe he was telling her the truth; that he wasn't manipulating or tricking her, but the nagging feeling that she should have learnt her lesson by now, along with the question of what would happen if it didn't work out? She would have nothing. Sure, at first she would be heartbroken, but after that she would no doubt slip back into the black pit of numbness. She couldn't go back to that.

"Do you feel nothing at all for me? Is that why it's so hard for you to choose?"

"You know that's not true."

"No, I don't." He moved towards her. "I don't know anything because you haven't told me. I tell you I love you, and you don't give me anything back."

"I don't know how." She told him weakly.

His hands reached up to frame her face, and his eyes bore into hers. "I know what you went through probably made you not want to trust anyone ever again, but you can trust me. This is your chance, Elena. Right here," he removed both hands from her face and took one of hers between them, "Are you going to take it, or are you going to keep hiding?"


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note: **So here it is! I was so happy, grateful and all those lovely emotions when I saw that you liked the last chapter because it worried me soo much. I know you're hoping Elena would've said yes to Damon to be with him and all that, but things are never that simple are they? ;) I can't wait to write the next chapter because its going to be one of my favourites, I love angst after all hehe. And its going to be a small skip ahead of where this one is left off. Please review and thank you for reading! xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

><p><strong>17<strong>

"_Say those words; say those words like there's nothing else. Close your eyes and you might believe that there is some way out. Open up; open up your heart to me now. Let it all come pouring out, there's nothing I can't take. If there's love just feel it, if there's life we'll see it. This is no time to be alone, alone yeah. I won't let you go." – __**James Morrison.**_

"_I can't let you lose everything for something that may not work out."_

It probably wasn't the best thing she could've said. No, that was definitely one of the worst things she could have said. Right up there with; 'we are never going to last' and 'you're not worth the risk.' Not that she felt either of these. She had doubts, but that didn't mean he would be able to deal with them, because she was, after all, making it seem like she had no hope in them lasting. Of course he left after that, she had expected him to do so. Leaving her with nothing more than a murmured 'I'm gonna go' and the horrible feeling of loss in regards to his departure. This wasn't what she originally predicted he would leave for, still he left. So now here she was; back at her own apartment, guilt-ridden and the wounds of her past that she had worked so hard to hide entirely bared to the cold and bitter air. Though he had given her understanding, she didn't deserve it and it didn't allow her any relief. There were many reasons why she didn't leave Frank, but the one she had most recently realized, one that she had already once before used, was that she deserved the day after day misery inflicted upon her emotions and thoughts. She didn't deserve the occasions she felt happy, all those shared with Damon, never mind a whole life with him. And that was why she let him walk out the door of his apartment, the comforting smell of his skin residing on the shirt that hung on her body, causing her to ache internally.

She slipped out of the clothes that had been put on fresh the day before and stepped into the shower, the tension in her shoulders representing the inner turmoil she felt, and this time, the hot spray of the water didn't relax her body or allow any comfort to be received, she felt nothing but shame. So much that she couldn't contain the tears that spilled from her eyes and added to the running water down her face. She realized she had buried everything so deep that it had held no effect on her, but now that it had resurfaced, she felt like she was dealing with it for the first time. And it was too much. The smell of the drunken man who forced himself in and out of her, hard enough that it was painful, the emptiness that increased after every customer had finished with her, the sting of Derek's hits as he made an example out of her. She wept until there was nothing left.

She didn't know how much time she spent under the shower, crying uncontrollably, but when she returned through her apartment, it had grown darker, forcing her to turn on the lamps surrounding.

An irrevocable feeling of sadness still clung to her, even though she knew Damon wouldn't be getting in contact with her any time soon, not until he had sorted through things, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that he hadn't. Truth was she missed him. Even if it was just a few hours since they last saw one another, or that their departure came due to an argument, she yearned for him.

Slipping into a pair of pajamas and tossing aside the white towel, she approached the bed and slid under the covers, her mind on anything but the sleep that approached. She had no clear plan on what to do next. Should she try her hardest to break things off with Damon? However, that never seemed to get farther than a few hours, or a day at the most. Or maybe she should go over to his apartment, apologize for everything she said and hope he would accept. She was fully aware that the second option would put them directly back in square one, she would still have to make the decision and he would still be waiting for her to. Along with the return of the handful of worries she had in regards to what Frank had up his sleeve. Speaking of Frank, she still didn't understand why he hadn't paid her any visits. He had called a few times, but that was it. And luckily, she had convinced Damon to do nothing about the bruise he found on her cheek a week ago. It made her anxious, but somehow it wasn't her number one priority right now; Damon was. She blew out a harsh breath and her hands hit down on the covers in frustration, causing them to billow around the harsh impact before getting tossed from her body and left there as she climbed from the bed, aiming for the book that still lay on her sofa from a few days ago. She didn't know why, but the urge to read _Pride and Prejudice_ never failed to appear when she felt sad or anxious. She picked up the book and returned to bed, the sheets still warm from her residence on them, flicked through the pages until landing on the last place she left the story.

_An unhappy alternative is before you, Elizabeth. From this day you must be a stranger to one of your parents. -Your mother will never see you again if you do not marry Mr. Collins, and I will never see you again if you do._

Elena read the line over and over, recognizing that she was in fact also in an unhappy alternative. If she remained with Frank, there was an unlikely possibility that Damon would be willing to sneak around with her for the rest of their lives, therefore to prevent any further hurt for herself along with him, they would not see one another again, or very briefly, and if she left Frank, the question of if they would have to leave New York would arrive and if that was so, she would have to leave Caroline behind, her apartment, a whole life. It was ironic, she had spent four years resenting the life Frank gave her, but when she thought about leaving it behind, it almost saddened her. She could only assume it was due to the security it allowed her. Elena chuckled to herself at how ridiculous it was that she felt safe with a man who was abusive and manipulating, while the thought of giving her heart to Damon terrified her a vast amount more than Frank ever had. The moment he told her he loved her; she practically sprinted from the room. She had known she loved him, but hearing him say it to her, well that changed everything, and it terrified her enough to overwhelm every inch of her senses. Along with the recurring wonder if Damon's feelings towards her were in fact genuine seemed to physically prevent her from cutting all ties from Frank. Could she trust him? She loved him; that she had no doubt about. But the fear of him disappointing her or ultimately breaking her heart stopped her from telling him those three words. Giving herself to him entirely was impossible until she was certain. Certain of him, certain of a possible future between them, certain of her feelings even. Sometimes she wondered if she was doing the same as she did when Frank came along to save her, was she convincing herself it was more than it actually was? Was she praying for Damon's rescue of her to be genuine? And because of that, she wasn't seeing, or thinking clearly? Or maybe it was all genuine, maybe she deserved a life shared with a man she loved, and loved her in return. Had she given enough to deserve that? Had she paid enough? Had the atonement she'd been searching for finally been received? By some means she wasn't convinced. She hadn't given up anything, not really. A few years of misery out of a lifetime wasn't nearly enough to pay for what she did was it? She didn't deserve Damon, she was as sure of that as she was of her love for him. She didn't deserve his love, hence why she couldn't believe it, why she had rejected it the first time he told her. She knew he had been in love before; he revealed that her name had been Katherine. Therefore she wasn't dealing with some teenager with delusions of being in love; Damon knew what it was to be in love. But would it stay that way? It wasn't possible to love someone so much that you completely understand such a dark past was it? She didn't know if she would have been so understanding as Damon had been.

Snapping out of the deep thoughts, she closed the book and placed it on her bedside table, giving up on the idea of being able to read any further, burrowed under the bed covers until her head met the pillow and relieved her tired eyes.

She woke the next morning to her 7:30am alarm and rolled out of bed with a soft groan. It was Monday, which meant she had work. One advantage was that she wouldn't have to replace Rose as Damon's personal assistant any longer, which was in fact impeccable timing after their fight yesterday morning; she doubted he wanted to see her. And it saved them from a second round.

A mixture of relief and disappointment triggered by the inability to see Damon enveloped Elena, contradicting her earlier label of it being an advantage as she rode the elevator past the 42nd floor and stepped out onto the top floor right on time as always, her red pumps silent against the carpet as she moved down the corridor towards her desk, the strong smell of Andie's perfume evident in the air. They exchanged pleasant greetings and Elena took a seat behind her desk before asking Andie how her weekend was, to which she received a vague 'fine'. That was strange; it was usually hard to get her not to dive into describing every detail of her weekend. Elena could only assume there was something wrong. Unsure whether to ask, her mind was soon made up when a call from Frank sounded, causing her to rise form the chair and enter his office.

"I have a present for you." He revealed. "Actually, there's two parts. I'll give you the first now."

If the mischievous glint in his eyes hadn't been noticeable then she probably would have been surprised that he was presenting her with a gift. It wasn't like he had anything to make up for; no punch or slap to the face since they had barely seen one another lately. Elena made no reply, instead waited for Frank to continue. When he didn't, she shut the door and took a large step into the office. Her brow furrowed once she looked more carefully at Frank; arrogance was practically radiating from his expression and it made her nervous.

Elena blew out impatiently. "What is it, Frank?"

He chuckled. "Now is that any way to treat your soon-to-be husband?"

She froze. That didn't mean what she thought it meant did it? With her mouth hanging open and the inability to find words, Frank took the opportunity to continue.

"Elena Miller," He said as if testing it out. "Has a ring to it don't you think?"

When she finally managed to snap out of her surprise, she murmured a soft; "No,"

It wasn't an answer to his obvious rhetorical question, it was denial. She couldn't marry him, she wouldn't. The engagement was fake, there had never been intentions for them to actually marry; she had made sure of that from the moment he offered the ring to her. It was a long few moments until she managed to find a sentence. "You can't do this."

He chuckled again and stood up. "I think you'll find I can."

"I won't do it."

"You don't get a choice." He told her, amused.

Her head shook weakly and she shifted backwards, her hand outstretched to catch the door handle the moment it made contact with her skin. Pulling it open with a force and swiveling around to successfully slip from the office, she took a marginally large intake of breath to find it wasn't just the office or Frank causing her to suffocate, therefore her pumps kept moving, passed the PA desks, down the corridor into the elevator and down a floor. She had no idea what she hoped to find, but one thing she knew for sure; Damon didn't suffocate her. He was the release, an oasis in the middle of a desert. And now that the anchor had only tightened and the filling of her lungs only quickened by each passing second, she needed him with an increased desperation. She was choosing him. She couldn't drown anymore. She grabbed hold of the gold circular knob and was disappointed to find it locked, and then turned to scan the rest of the floor until landing on Stefan Salvatore, Damon's younger brother stood a few feet from her, a smile on his attractive face as his obvious muscular body leaning against the doorjamb of his own office.

"He's not there." Stefan told her.

"Where is he?" Elena queried.

"Has the day off."

"Oh," Her disappointment was obviously plain to see by the look Stefan's face, forcing her sudden thwarted energy to transform into flustered before she turned to retrace her steps down the corridor towards the elevator.

"Elena," Stefan called after her, and she turned back to meet his green eyes. "He's at his apartment."

A grin formed on his lips, and it was apparent it was contagious because Elena felt her own lifting into a genuine smile. She hadn't spent more than a few minutes with Stefan, and she didn't know a lot about him other than what Damon told her, but this moment told everything anyone would ever need to know about Stefan Salvatore; he loved his brother, and wanted him to be happy, even if it was with someone who was promised to their boss.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He returned before disappearing into his office, leaving her to scurry as quickly as possible down the corridor in pumps, ride the elevator down then proceed subtly through the building foyer and out onto the street. She might've hailed a cab if she wasn't in such a hurry to reach her destination, besides, if she breathed in anything other than fresh air until she reached Damon's, her stomach might just toss up all the contents of her breakfast. With the mixture of excitement and nervousness, she felt as though she was going to explode. This was it; the defining moment. Ten minutes later, the clapping of her pumps against the concrete had decreased in its ferocity and she wished she could magic up a bottle of water, not only for the sudden case of dry-mouth she would undoubtedly inherit the moment she stepped inside Damon's apartment, but to cool the growing fever of her skin. Elena whirled through the front door of the apartment building, ascended the stairs, ensuring her breathing was regulated by the time she reached his door then lifted a clenched hand to provide a few knocks against it.

She pushed her hair from her face and straightened her skirt and blouse, instantly lifted her head the moment the door was pulled open to find the one thing that was more surprising than Frank telling her they were going to get married. She blinked a few times until realizing what she was seeing was actually real. It was _almost _like looking in a mirror. How was this even possible?

The pair of lips that almost matched her own turned up into a mischief-filled smile, bearing the perfect white teeth within and Elena caught onto another difference between them other than her own lips being fuller, was their eyes. This woman's eyes were almost black, while her own were lighter, warmer.

Just as Elena was about to say something, the woman beat her to it. "Hi, I'm Katherine." She purred.

Katherine?

_This_ was Katherine? Damon's ex-girlfriend Katherine, the first woman he had ever loved, the very same woman stood before her that could be mistaken for a twin sister except for a few differences. A few seconds ago she had been ready to say something, now she was drawing a blank. All she seemed able to do was blink, and frown.

_God, she was so stupid._ She had been the backup, the substitute for Katherine all this time. Had he only loved her, understood her dark past because she resembled Katherine? It was looking that way. And the look on his face when he appeared behind Katherine, his eyes catching the sight of Elena frozen to the spot in shock, confirmed it. Just like a deer caught in headlights, he didn't know which route to take to explain. It was a good thing she didn't want one. Turning on the spot and heading back along the landing, she heard the hurried steps and the soft call of her name, triggering the wish that he hadn't come after her. She carried on until her fierce movements were brought to a stop by Damon's grasp to her arm. She turned around, her eyes burning with rage.

"Don't touch me!" Elena squirmed from his hand and took a small step back, marking that his eyes were so soft and pleading that she felt grateful for the anger within that seemed to leave her unaffected.

"I know how this looks." Damon tried.

"You do, huh? Because it looks exactly like you've been keeping me as a backup until she realized how good you actually were in the sack." She spat out.

"That's not how it is. I can explain everything-

"I don't want any explanation. I think I got it."

"Elena-

She held up a hand for him to stop then curled her fingers down into a fist before letting it fall back to her side, forcing tears not to spill and her feet to move until they found the stairs. How had this happened again? She had fallen for the world he had painted for her just because she had wanted it so desperately. This wasn't supposed to happen again; she thought they were meant for one another. She was a fool. She had gotten distracted from protecting herself and come here to choose him, only to be reminded why she should never trust her feelings. The anger she felt towards Damon was minuscule compared to how she felt in regards to herself, once again, she should've known better. The only way she could be safe, to prevent the tear of her heart she felt at this very moment, was to do the exact thing she came here not to have to do. She had to marry Frank.

She came to a stop half way down the stairs and looked up at him. "You should know that I'm marrying Frank,"

Damon's face fell and after a few moments he said; "What?"

"You heard what I said." She replied softly.

"Elena, you can't do this."

"I choose him."

He took the minor amount of steps she had until he was situated on the step above and his hand prevented her gaze averting. "I can't let you do this."

"It's happening," Luckily the strength in her voice had somehow remained, and she pulled her face from his hand. "There's nothing you can do to stop it."

His brow creased and she knew he wasn't giving up that easy, so when she finally turned away and ascended the rest of the stairs, the dread of how he would try to tempt her out of marrying Frank nagged severely, but this time she wasn't hoping he would succeed.


	18. Chapter 18

**Authors Note: **WAAAH here it is! Originally, this chapter went a completely different direction, but then I had an idea and thought; you know what? she's not going to be miserable anymore. Thank you everyone for the reviews, you are amazing people. the next chapter is going to be all Damon based, then the next one after that will be a skip ahead in time. So I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think :D xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**18**

"_That's how you stay alive; when it hurts so much you can't breathe. That's how you survive." – __**Grey's Anatomy.**_

"Elena!"

She barely heard the call of her name while lost in concentration on the white dress that only a few minutes ago had been fitted to her body. It was fastened almost painfully by the silk ribbon through the back of the strapless corset designed upper bodice that proceeded down into a dramatic and elegant flow that touched upon the carpeted floor and pooled outwards at the back. Running her hands down and gathering the satin in both hands to allow her feet to slip into the white shoes carefully set aside the podium in front of the three face mirror, Elena rechecked her reflection without stepping back onto the podium, adjusted the perfectly styled curls of her hair ever so slightly before fixing the white veil to the top of her head and letting it fall down her back.

"Elena! We're going to be late." Caroline called from outside the room that she would in a few minutes be exiting and making her way to the limousine waiting to deliver the fully transformed Elena Gilbert into the perfect bride for Frank Miller. Her hands traced the wonderful feel of the dress material once more and a feeling of sadness rose to the surface. This was it; her first and only wedding day. Frank would never allow her to leave the marriage, not now, not in two years' time. Not that she desired to, not since…

She had woken up this morning determined not to think of Damon, of his lies, or the countless occasions he had ordered, and sometimes pleaded with her not to marry Frank. It was too late for that, and that's what she told him every time. She didn't trust him, nor did she believe he loved her, not really. She was now convinced he only loved her due to the physical resemblance her and Katherine shared. Why else had he kept it from her?

Brushing all thoughts aside and gathering her dress, Elena turned from the mirror and started towards the door, the same moment a soft knock sounded from the outside.

_Caroline; always so persistent._

"Caroline, I'm coming!" A breathy chuckle escaped her while grabbing the bouquet of red roses with her free hand from the side table and temporarily letting go of her dress to pull open the door. Assuming it was her maid of honor, Elena gathered up her dress for what felt like the hundredth time this morning and lifted her gaze to find it wasn't who she was expecting. The satin fell from her fingers and silently made contact with the floor and her mouth parted slightly in response to the person stood on the other side of the doorway. How had she not been prepared for this? It was like the oldest trick in the book. Show up on the wedding day as a final act of desperation to prevent the person you claim to love from going through with it. She thought he had given up by now. After a month of telling him she wasn't leaving Frank, the silence she partially desired finally came a few days ago. Turns out, he must have been rustling up another plan to convince her Katherine meant nothing, or that she was indeed making the biggest mistake of her life by marrying Frank.

She swallowed down the enormous lump in her throat and tightened her clutch on the bunched stems of the bouquet of roses, her eyes never leaving his.

"What are you doing here?" Elena finally asked.

"One final try, right?" The one side of his lips lifted into a smile but she knew it wasn't genuine.

Damon slipped around her and into the room, the black suit and white shirt along with the small red rose tucked into the pocket of his jacket caused her to wonder why he was dressed as if he was attending the wedding. Before she could question it; her exterior lost all strength and threatened to tremble under the roam of his blue eyes over her appearance. It was difficult enough without him looking at her like _that._

"Don't do that." She demanded.

"Do what?"

"_Look_ at me like that."

Damon scoffed. "Like what? Like I love you?"

"You don't love me. You love that I look like her."

"That's where you're wrong."

He took a few large steps forward until they were a mere foot apart and her eyes instantaneously fell to the floor in attempt to save her breath from catching, or her heart from picking up, or even the urge she knew she would have to kiss him, or just touch him. And she hated herself for it. Even after he had used her, she still felt so much for him. How was that even possible?

"It should be me waiting for you at that church right now. You and I both know it." He said softly.

Elena shook her head in response, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"You'll never be happy with him."

"Maybe not," she composed herself. "But I'm safe with him."

"You call getting your face bruised every week, safe?" He discarded of the words like a bad taste in his mouth.

"I wasn't talking about my face." She corrected.

His brow creased then returned to normal. "So that's it? I hurt you, and now you're going to marry a man you feel nothing for, who hits you, to protect yourself?"

"You lied to me," she snapped back. "You told me you loved me-

"I do love you!"

"I don't believe you."

And in another attempt to change her mind, he took her face in his hands and crushed their lips together. She gave in for a second, because trying not to kiss someone you're unconditionally attracted to, that you have undeniable love for, was almost an impossible task, _almost. _Lucky for her, the burn of his betrayal still stung, allowing her hands to push at his chest, breaking them apart. They stared at one another, their breathing suddenly uneven from the contact they hadnt shared for longer than either had desired.

"Don't." Her fingers touched upon her lips, the feel of his still there.

"I have to go; I'm getting married in half an hour." She told him in a flat tone.

"I can't let you do this, not because you're convinced my feelings come from you resembling Katherine." His voice was laced with desperation.

"It's happening," The echo of her words from a month ago struck them both much more intensely, and she slowly turned.

"Please don't do this." Damon almost pleaded and she looked back at him.

"Do you want to know why I came to see you that day?" She began. "I was choosing you."

His face twisted into surprise and hurt rose in the intense blue of his eyes, but he made no reply.

"Imagine how stupid I felt when I saw exactly why things were different with me for you."

With that, she left. The train of her dress seemingly weighing a ton as she got further away from him and her emotions on the verge of spilling. Swallowing them down, she forced a small smile and joined Caroline at the front of the house Frank had apparently rented out especially for her to spend the night and get ready for the wedding this morning.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Caroline asked her.

Elena looked to her best friend for a brief moment and uttered a small unconvincing; "Yes."

Caroline gave a small nod and gestured towards the black limousine awaiting them.

Once situated inside, Caroline took Elena's hand in hers and gave it a small squeeze, earning a sad, yet grateful smile. She didn't know what she would do without Caroline, to imagine having to go through this day alone was unbearable.

"You look beautiful." Caroline said.

"So do you." Elena returned once taking a moment to scan her best friend's appearance. She wore a deep red strapless dress that draped almost as long as her own dress, the sweetheart neckline accentuated her breasts and her blonde hair fell around her shoulders in subtle curls. "Didn't you have a rose in your hair?"

Although she had been a panicked mess this morning while Caroline helped her into her dress, she specifically remembered there being a red rose tucked in the blonde curls.

"Yeah, I decided to take it out." Caroline told her simply with an almost mischievous smile.

* * *

><p>"You know… if you're not sure about this, we can totally make a run for it. The limo is right outside." Caroline said nonchalantly while resting on the chair in the room located at the back of the church, checking her manicured nails.<p>

"Caroline," Elena warned from her place in front of the mirror, rechecking her hair and makeup out of nervous habit.

"Okay, okay." She held her hands up in surrender and rose from the chair. "But remember; limousine is right outside."

Elena chuckled. "Don't tempt me."

Once finishing the final layer of gloss to her lips, Elena turned to meet Caroline's intent, and slightly nervous expression. When she said nothing, only chewed on her lip, Elena was forced to ask.

"What?"

Caroline took a second. "I know you don't like to talk about your past, what your life was before Frank, I don't even know if you have any siblings, or what your mother or fathers name is. And that's fine, because you're my best friend, and nothing will change that. So, you should know that if you need to talk to me, I'm here."

"I know you are." Elena smiled. "No siblings, my fathers name was Grayson, he died."

"I'm sorry." Caroline said naturally.

"It was a long time ago." Elena assured.

Caroline nodded with profound movements and retrieved their bouquets from the table, holding her own bunch of white roses to her chest while holding out Elena's red roses to her. Taking them by the stems and picking the front of her dress up, she took a breath and hoped it would ready her for what was about to come. Every girl dreamt about her wedding day; that it would be a handsome man, who you loved, and returned such love, you would wear an amazing dress that made you feel amazing just by how significant it was. At least she had the dress, but it held no significance. Not today, not when she was marrying this man. The start of the music rippled through the large church, triggering her to move towards the door that separated them from the mass of guests, the vicar, and of course, Frank.

"Wait. Your necklace," Caroline held up the gift Frank had given her to sweeten the air between them after he punched her for the first time, the sparkle of the blue diamond in the shape of a heart didn't fail to transfix her gaze. It was truly beautiful. Yet it meant nothing.

"Right," She murmured and rotated on the stop for Caroline to fix it around her neck, clasping it with a struggle since she couldn't actually see it past the layers of the white veil and her hair. Frank had insisted she wear the necklace today therefore it was an advantage Caroline had remembered, but still she couldn't stop the feeling on resentment surfacing when she set her sights on the necklace, which only grew when it was fastened around her neck.

"Remember; limousine, outside." Caroline whispered.

Elena nodded once, pulled open the door and felt the loud swell of the wedding march being played drown her senses before taking another deep breath and stepping out, with Caroline at her tail until they reached the point of an estimated few feet from the archway, remaining hidden from sight to the entire church and Caroline rounded in front of her, taking both hands and holding them between their subdued figures.

"Now, what did we go over?"

"Limousine, right outside," Elena recited.

With a quick nod, Caroline released Elena's hands, whirled around and stepped into place to begin her traditional bridesmaid duty of walking down the aisle before the bride. She watched her best friend leave, took a handful of deep breaths and followed behind. This was a mistake, she knew it. She didn't need the stares of people she barely knew and the unloving way Frank looked at her to know that. While she screamed at herself to turn around, or even stop, the unwillingness to experience any more heartache or disappointment willed her to continue towards the man she felt absolutely nothing for.

She watched Caroline come to a stop on the step below her own designated position next to Frank, to which she quickly embraced. She looked to the vicar, then to Frank; expression blank and unresponsive. No surprise there.

Her mind wandered from the moment the vicar began until reference to the rings was made then she knew the end was closing in on her. Could she do this? Could she marry Frank just because she was petrified of getting hurt, of being vulnerable?

This was wrong, in every sense.

It had been from the start, but she went along with it because she was convinced marrying Frank would shield her from feeling, from hurting. But that's what life was; hurting, growing, fighting, and instead she was lying down for life to roll over her. She was letting Frank chain her up, not only by every physical piece of her, but matrimonially. All she had ever wanted since the day her mother asked her 'what would your father think?' was to make her father proud, to make amends for her shameful mistakes, and this wasn't the way. That was exactly the reason she wasn't going to go through with this.

Elena turned and subtly caught Caroline's attention, only when she was ensured she had it did she lean over and whisper; "I think it's time we put that running for the limo plan into action."

"What?"

"Stand by for a runaway bride." Elena smiled devilishly.

"Are you serious?" The way Caroline's lips lifted into a grin and her blue eyes sparkled, she knew her friend was excited, and partially proud.

A certain nod of her head followed and she turned back to face the vicar just as Frank uttered the words; 'I do' that almost made her gag. Then he was taking her hand and slipping on the silver band wedding ring to merge with the generous engagement one, and the vicar was moving on to her.

"Do you, Elena Gilbert, take Frank Miller to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

She looked from Frank, to the vicar, and back again, her expression in awe of what she was about to do.

"No." She said clear enough for the entire church to hear. The small gasps of shock and horror from the guests only urged her on.

"I'm sorry?" The vicar asked in disbelief. She didn't know why, hadn't this happened to them before? She would've thought so.

"Absolutely not," A small giggle escaped her as she caught Frank's outraged expression plastered on his unattractive face. She almost wished she had a camera. "I won't marry you, not now, not ever."

"Caroline, go tell the driver we're leaving." She said without breaking her stare with Frank until the loud shutting of the door sounded and she turned to face the seated guests. "By the way, I think you should all know, that this," She motioned between her and Frank with a forefinger. "Is not a real wedding, it's not even a relationship. He got me from a brothel, offered me a life, that turned out to be a role as a fiancée who he hits to keep in line."

Numerous mouths fell agape, and people leant over to whisper in the person's ear sat next to them. This was definitely going to be talked about for a while.

"Well, that's me done." She gathered her dress and ascended the two steps, stopped only for a moment to turn back and look at Frank's reddened face. "Thank you, sincerely for a meaningless four and a half years. You really made it special." Her lips lifted into a sarcastic smile and she was returning down the aisle, alone, no Frank, just the way it was supposed to be. Finally exiting through the double arched wooden church doors, she sighed into the fresh air. _That _felt good.

Elena twirled on the spot, while holding no care for the fact that Frank was likely to be on his way to mangle her. She hadn't felt complete freedom for longer than she could remember; this was a moment to be cherished.

"Elena!" Caroline called from the back of the limousine, the door open to welcome her inside. She started towards it, only to be halted by another call of her name coming from behind, her body instinctively turning to meet the owner.

"You did it." Damon said while approaching her. "You really did it." His hand reached out, caressed her cheek with a tender touch only he could provide, leaving her unable to resist leaning into it, and her eyes closed to revel in the moment. Especially because of what she was about to say.

Her eyes opened to find his. "It doesn't change anything,"

"What?"

"It doesn't change what happened," she said. "I can't be Katherine for you."

"I don't want you to be." Damon exclaimed.

"We can't be sure of that."

"I can," His voice was firm but his touch remained soft. "She means _nothing_ to me. Not anymore. The _only_ woman I love is you."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you love me? If it's not because I look like her, then why is it?"

"I… because…" he tripped over finding the words, and she placed a hand over his, her fingers dipped into the gap between her face and his palm to effectively peel his hand from her face.

"I love you, _so_ much." She told him with a shaky voice and tear filled eyes. "But I won't be someone else for you."

His hand remained within hers, and she lifted it to place a soft kiss to the palm before telling him the one thing she never thought she would. "Goodbye, Damon."

* * *

><p>Damon watched her get into the back of the sleek black limousine, shut the door and it drive off, the wheels crunching against the stones. This wasn't what he had pictured happening after she finally told him she loved him. What did she mean by 'goodbye'? The look in her eyes, and the kiss she placed to his hand warned him that this may be the last time he saw her. That she was leaving. But how could she? She used to say herself; without Frank she had nothing. And she had definitely tossed Frank to the curb only a few minutes ago, at the altar, no doubt.<p>

If she had nothing, no way of leaving, then why was she telling him goodbye? And why did he have a gut wrenching feeling he wouldn't see her again?

How could this be happening? Katherine, of course. True, he should have told Elena she held an uncanny resemblance to his ex-girlfriend, and also true, he shouldn't have purposely wanted them not to ever meet. But Elena had convinced herself that was because he was still in love with Katherine. That was completely ridiculous. He hadn't felt that way towards Katherine since they broke up, maybe even before that. Of course he couldn't blame her for jumping to conclusions the moment she saw Katherine, in his apartment, looking exactly like Elena. Nothing had happened, of course. It had been his day off and Katherine turned up at the apartment uninvited, making flirty comments as usual, to which he politely told her she didn't do it for him anymore. Then there was a knock at the door.

Damon ran a hand through his tousled black hair while remembering the look on Elena's face as she stood in his doorway, eyeing Katherine with utter surprise, and started towards the car park where his car was currently located. She told him she was going to choose him, and after waiting so long for her to, that day should have been an amazing one. Instead, it was by far one of the worst, along with this one.

He was an idiot, plain and simple. If he had just told her about Katherine, it was inevitable they'd be together right now. Instead, Elena was gone, and he was left feeling like a vital part of him had been torn away.

Dragging him from the inner beating, was his younger brother calling out his name causing the current proceedings towards his car to stop and his body to turn and meet him, only to continue the path in the direction of his parked car when Stefan had caught up to him.

"What?"

"What happened?" Stefan queried once falling into step beside Damon.

"Nothing happened, she left." He replied vaguely.

"Left where?"

"I don't know, Stefan."

"And you're not going after her?"

They reached his car and Damon slid onto the bonnet, naturally forcing Stefan to do the same.

"Why would I?" He scoffed indignantly while inside asking himself the very same question. Why wasn't he chasing after her? Because he knew it wouldn't change anything?

"Because you love her," Stefan pointed out.

"Doesn't matter,"

"Of course it matters."

"No, it doesn't Stefan." He argued. "She doesn't want me, not anymore."

"Why?"

"Because of Katherine,"

Stefan's brow creased profoundly. "Katherine? What the hell has Katherine got to do with it?"

He took a moment before answering. "I failed to mention the fact that they look strangely alike."

"Oh,"

"Very 'oh'" Damon agreed, and gave a small nod before turning to watch his brothers mouth turn up into a smile and a half-hearted chuckle leave it.

"God, Damon. Why would you not tell her?"

"Because," he blew out a harsh breath then continued. "I'm an idiot; I'm addicted to being miserable."

"What?" Stefan looked at him dumfounded.

"Just throwing some things out there," He shrugged. "Though I am starting to think I'm addicted to misery and pain."

"You're not." Stefan assured.

"How do you know?"

"Because you haven't been miserable for months, not since Elena came along."

"Yeah, and look what I did there."

"You can still fix it."

"I don't think I can."

"Why? Because you're stubborn,"

"No, because I don't know how to un-break her heart,"

They shared a look, initiating the question in Damon's mind of what he would do without Stefan there. Stefan was his only friend, his best friend in fact. And he was leaving for Paris sooner than Damon was ready for.

"When do you leave?" Damon asked, not really wanting the answer.

"Two days," Stefan responded.

"I could drive you to the airport?"

"Sure."


	19. Chapter 19

**Authors Note: **This chapter took me so long to write and I don't even know why! I think because I wanted to be just all based on Damon, I had to pull together things for only him, and though it wasnt hard, i just couldnt get a move on with writing it. Well anyway here it is, thank you so much for the reviews once again, it means so much that people are reading this and actually enjoying it. ENJOY XXXXXX

**19**

"_You want to know what I'm scared of? I'm scared of everything; I'm scared to move, I'm scared to breathe, I'm scared to touch you! I can't lose you, I won't survive. And that's your fault. You made me love you; you made me let you in." – __**Grey's Anatomy.**_

'_This is Damon Salvatore; leave a message after the beep.'_

He chuckled at the sound of his own voice on the recording, evaluating that it sounded nothing like his voice. It wasn't even funny, yet he couldn't contain the laughter spilling from his mouth. But that's what happens when you spend the entire weekend attempting to demolish the liquor cabinet without taking a break to eat, or sleep. Just occasional much needed bathroom breaks. To pee, throw up, whatever.

The excruciating beep rippled through the apartment and gave way to his younger brother's voice.

"_So, I'm leaving for the airport in a few minutes, I guess you're not going to be there. Anyway, I'll see you in a couple of months."_

Damon closed his eyes tight, and held the tumbler to his forehead. Things were beautiful down here at rock bottom. He could barely recall how he got there, but it would seem that it hadn't processed of Elena's departure until her empty apartment confirmed it. From there it was a downward spiral, and it had only been a few days. He was already letting Stefan down, and that was something he never did, no matter what. Somehow wallowing in self-pity with a broken heart made it justifiable, and he wanted to hit himself the moment he let the thought finish. He was stuck behind a wall, and had no way of getting over; it felt physically impossible, which was completely foreign to him. He accepted things and moved on, or found a way to make things happen, it's what he did. But this, this was a whole different kind of broken, he didn't have any desire to leave the apartment, unless he ran out of drink of course, fortunately, his cabinet wouldn't run dry for a while. He had no motivation to go into work, therefore he hadn't, much to Frank's displeasure. It was a wonder his machine wasn't full from the countless messages he got from Stefan and Frank over the past couple of days varying from threats to take his job to concern if he was doing alright. It was obvious which messages were from which person.

Damon finished his drink in one gulp, and grabbed hold of the whiskey bottle, carefully pouring himself another glass and taking a generous sip. He wasn't intending on drinking himself into a coma, but it seemed his actions had a mind of their own because they still went for the bottle every time he finished each drink. Or maybe it was fuelled by the desperate need to not deal with the heartache. The more he drank, the less he felt.

He had been naïve to think it would feel like it had when he broke up with Katherine, but of course it wouldn't. He had been ready to end things with Katherine, if anything; he had fallen out of love therefore that made it easier to end things. He was still very much in love with Elena, and that's what made it almost too painful to move, to even allow himself to feel. He couldn't let himself, not yet. He wasn't ready. So he knocked back another drink and poured a fresh one, his eyelids threatening to drag him into the deep sleep his body craved in order to recharge. Fighting against it, Damon finished his drink and felt gratitude overwhelm him when a knock to the apartment door caught his attention. Hopefully, it was a worthy distraction.

He clumsily made his way to the door and pulled it open to reveal Frank.

"Well, if it isn't my most favorite person." Damon's sarcastic tone earned him a scowl and the view of a stiff posture as Frank rounded him and continued into the apartment.

"You're supposed to be at work, doing your job, because that's what I pay you to do. And yet, here you are." Frank stated in irritation.

Damon scoffed and pushed the door shut. "What are you whining for?" he retraced his way through the apartment. "You've wanted to get me out of the way for months; I'm basically doing the job for you."

"And I'll happily let you get back to that, once you tell me where she is."

That's why he was here; to force Elena's whereabouts out of him? In that case, he'd made a wasted journey because Damon knew no more than Frank did.

"I don't know where she is, Frank." He told him honestly.

Within a single blink of an eye, he was forced against the wall and his neck was caught in the tight vice of Frank's large hand. Damon contemplated how much of a beating he was willing to give Frank until remembering how drunk he actually was. Well, that was out of the question.

Damon chuckled half-heartedly. "Someone's been eating their Wheaties."

"If you're lying," Frank warned.

"If I knew where she was, do you think I'd be here?" Damon pointed out, causing Frank to let go and take a large step back, allowing him to retrieve the bottle of whiskey from the table and take a swig. "So what's the plan? Beg her to take you back; to return to the designated role as Frank Millers perfect wife?"

"I don't need her for that anymore." Frank began. "I've found a replacement, and if I do say so, this one is better than the original."

Damon frowned, the realization of something he should've picked up on sooner, or even the moment he learned of her being in the city. "Katherine."

"Ding, ding, ding!"

There were so many questions; why had he wanted Elena to marry him if he had Katherine as a back-up? Why would she even get involved with someone like Frank? But he already knew the answer to the second one; money. He settled on asking just one; "How?"

"It's a long and very exciting story that I would love to tell, but I have a conniving bitch to take care of." Damon frowned but fought the urge to defend Elena. She was the one who left him after all. And that's when he felt the transformation of sadness to anger and resentment towards her, but didn't get the chance to continue the train of thought. "Let's just say, she approached me, gave me an offer I couldn't refuse."

"She did what you couldn't." Damon realized without a second guess. "She destroyed Elena's trust in me, got me out of the way… for you."

"With a single visit to your apartment," Frank boasted.

"You planned it. Gave me the day off, and sent Katherine to me."

"I figured Elena would go running to you after I dropped the wedding bombshell, all I had to then, was wait. Lucky for me, you hadn't told her about how she could play the reflection of your ex-girlfriend."

And there it was again; the simple truth. If he had been honest with her, things wouldn't be such a mess right now. He wouldn't be alone and heartbroken, and her whereabouts at this very moment wouldn't be a mystery to him. He could resent her for leaving until it killed him, but it was his own fault, and he knew that. He only had himself to blame; and that's what hurt the most.

"So you see, though it would give me vast amounts of pleasure to take all the credit, I cannot." Frank sighed with complete satisfaction and it made Damon mood darken even further. "So, thank you, very much, for being a dishonest prick."

As he felt a twinge of emotion, Damon grabbed the whiskey and poured himself another full glass, brought it to his lips in a desperate impulse to feel nothing again, and swallowed it all down, the burn barely noticeable anymore.

"I'll see you soon." Frank winked then leisurely turned and strode out of the apartment, complete silence returning to Damon's surroundings once the door clicked shut, along with the newly found inner conflict. Should he try to find Elena? Though he would have no clue where to start, or should he stay here, and continue to fill his body with alcohol? Truth was; he had no single theory on how he would find her, which was another reason why he was drowning himself in his favorite whiskey, not just to suffocate the heartache and self-loathing. Then again, if he knew where she was, would he go to her? He had pointed out to Frank that if he did know, he wouldn't be holed up in his apartment, but he didn't know if that was how he really felt. A large part of him believed he would still be here, in a drunk and angry stupor even if she were only a few miles away. What did that say about them? That what they shared meant nothing? A week ago it meant everything to him. But maybe that was the problem; it meant more to him than it ever had to her, and that's why it was easy for her to leave. Once again, she had the choice of fight or flight, and just like before, she flew.

The irritation with the constant thoughts stampeding through his mind, screaming at him, tampering with his emotions, became evident through the loud slam of the glass tumbler against the apartment table, shortly followed by his relocation into the bathroom, the large rectangular mirror revealing the state of his appearance. The area surrounding his lips and along his jaw shadowed with subtle dark hair, the blue of his eyes uninhabited by the reddening due to sleep deprivation and his midnight hair messier than ever. Catching sight of the shower behind his reflection, a wave of nostalgia hit him full force and the need to get out of the apartment, away from the memories shared with her, was overwhelming, he pushed away from the sink and rushed from the room, grateful that he had put on a fresh black t shirt and jeans this morning, grabbed his wallet and exited the apartment, ensuring to run a hand through his hair in the process. He may have hit rock bottom, but that didn't necessarily mean he had to look like it.

Making his way to Lloyd's on foot, his anger seemingly lessened in the fresh air, Damon wondered where Elena was, what she was doing, if she thought about him as much as he did her. Did she miss him? Or had she locked any thoughts and memories of him away in a box the moment she left? Did she intend on returning? Or would she find someone new, fall in love, get married and have children? The thought of her with any man that wasn't him, bearing another man's child, taking his hand in marriage, made him nauseous and his legs picked up the pace in hurry to swallow down an endless amount of drinks. He glided through the entrance and straight to the bar, taking no notice of the people already occupying Lloyd's. Once hoisting himself up onto a vacant stool with a medium amount of grace he could muster after spending the day consuming half a bottle of whiskey and ordering a bourbon from Matt, he finally took a scan around the rest of the bar, and recognized no-one. Good, he didn't feel like making small talk.

Matt pushed a glass tumbler partially filled with amber liquid and Damon more than willingly swept it up and consumed it in one attempt. While motioning for another, he remembered Elena once mention that Caroline was dating Matt, therefore he wondered if he knew where they both were, or had Caroline blown Matt off the same way Elena had to him?

He contemplated asking until the moment Matt returned with a fresh drink, the question naturally fell from Damon's mouth.

"How's Caroline?"

Matt's eyes widened in surprise, probably because the only two words Damon usually utters to his favorite bartender was 'bourbon' and 'double'. Matt gaze went to the floor before lifting back up, and Damon knew he wasn't the only one who had been left hanging.

"We're sort of taking a break right now." Matt revealed.

"Oh," Damon feigned surprise, as well as sympathy. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. Long distance relationships never really work out anyway."

"I guess not." Damon murmured in agreement.

"So, what's your excuse for being in here at eleven in the morning?" Matt queried, tossing a stained white towel onto his broad shoulder and leaning against the bar.

"Bad day, bad week, bad month," Damon listed off, not passing up an opportunity to talk to someone, especially since his brother was halfway to Paris by now, and the woman he loved was god knows where.

"There's a lot of that going around." Matt granted with a small chuckle.

"Must be something in the water," Damon murmured indifferently, tracing the rim of his glass with his forefinger, his gaze transfixed on the contents within therefore the new arrival on the stool next to him went disregarded until their voice added to the conversation. "Nope, it's just you."

Damon turned to discover the last person he expected; Stefan.

"Bourbon please, Matt." Stefan requested while Damon stared at him in disbelief, and only when his younger brother's attention went to him from Matt did he speak.

"What are you doing here?"

"My start date got moved to two months' time instead," Stefan explained. "Which you would have known if you had turned up to take me to the airport like you promised."

If he hadn't known Stefan so well, and they weren't as close as they had been for years, Damon would have believed every word. But they were that close, and he did know Stefan inside out, so he knew better than to believe that excuse. Not because of the message he received earlier, but the way Stefan couldn't look at the person he was lying to because of how much of an honest and pure-hearted person he was. Something Damon had caught onto when he officially became Stefan's guardian, which came in extremely handy.

Damon's heart clenched, but he didn't call Stefan on his dishonesty. Mostly because he didn't want them sharing a mushy brotherly moment that would make him want to gag tomorrow morning.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Damon told him, triggering a wave of Stefan's hand that revealed he was fine with it.

Matt moved back to their side of the bar and placed the bourbon directly in front of Stefan, a slight nod exchanged between the two men before Matt departed once again.

"How did you know I would be here?" Damon questioned, taking a sip of his drink and watching as Stefan did the same.

"You weren't at your apartment." he answered simply.

"Well, what if I was at work?"

Stefan gave a knowing smirk and swallowed another small amount of his drink, rendering Damon to agree and fully appreciate that Stefan wasn't urging him to talk about his feelings, or his current heartache, he just sat with him, trusting that he just needed someone to be there. Normally he would have been angry that Stefan had postponed his move, but the truth was he just needed his brother right now so the only thing he felt was gratitude, followed by curiosity.

"Didn't you sell your apartment?"

"Yep,"

"So, what are you doing for two months?"

"Staying at your place," Stefan replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, no, no, no." Damon shook his head. "No way, brother."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"I mean no."

"What do you expect me to do; sleep on the streets?"

"No," Damon paused in his answer to take a sip of bourbon. "Get a hotel room."

Stefan's brow creased. "You want me to get a hotel room for two whole months?"

"Hey, that should be no problem for the man running our Paris branch."

"I'm not running it _yet_." Stefan argued.

"You would have been if it wasn't for that pesky postponement." Damon teased with a half-smile.

"You're a dick."

"Thank you." Damon held up the glass tumbler before swallowing the rest of his drink down, climbing from the stool and pulling a twenty dollar bill from his jeans pocket to set on the bar, all of which was watched curiously by his younger brother.

"Where are you going?" Stefan asked.

"I have unfinished business with a bottle of whiskey."

He turned on the spot and approached the exit, but before he got very far, a sentence from his brother's mouth made him freeze on the spot and whirl around. "Watch out for my suitcases on your way in."

"What?"

"My suitcases, watch out for them on your way into your apartment." Stefan said slower than necessary.

Damon blew out an annoyed breath. It wasn't that he didn't want his brother to stay with him, he just knew without a doubt, after a day they would be rubbing each other up the wrong way. They could barely spend more than ten minutes in the same office as one another without bickering, how could they possibly live in the same apartment? Well, looks like he was going to find out.

He raised an eyebrow in expectance for Stefan to follow his lead, to which he fulfilled in a few long moments to purposely test Damon's patience more than he already had.

"These are going to be a _long _two months." Damon muttered, before realizing he had just been handed the distraction he desperately needed.

* * *

><p>"Stefan, for god's sake, will you pick up your crap?" Damon exclaimed while shifting the piles of clothes across the leather sofa, making room to sit down.<p>

"Will you?" Stefan returned with a gesture towards the half-drunk bottles of alcohol strewn around the apartment's surfaces.

"_That _is not crap." Damon argued.

"Your liver begs to differ."

"My liver will be throwing a party when we drop you off at the airport in an hour."

Stefan scoffed, placing the last of his clothes into the first suitcase and zipping it up, before moving onto the second. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Yes mom, I'll be just fine."

Much to his surprise, he and Stefan had refrained from coming to blows for the whole two months, which was a huge contrast to them growing up in the same house together. Somehow Stefan had eased the ache that Elena had caused, and Damon was extremely grateful for it. He knew Stefan had given up leaving for Paris so soon after Elena left him, because of the concern he had for Damon's intentions, and surprisingly it comforted him. And just like the morning at Lloyd's, Stefan didn't ask him to bare his feelings, or open up, he was just there. As a support system, a safety net. And though he joked about it, he hadn't needed to drink as much as he would have if Stefan wasn't there.

"I'm serious, Damon." Stefan rounded the sofa and grabbed the pile of clothes. "You're not going to drink yourself into a coma while I'm gone?"

"I was doing that while you were here."

Damon watched as his brother returned to his suitcases, force the clothes in with the aid of the lid and swiftly zip it up tight. "Just promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"Will you quit nagging if I do?"

"Yes,"

"Then fine, I promise to take care of myself, eat all my greens and all that." He said from the sofa as Stefan lugged both suitcases to the front door in preparation for his leave.

"I can't believe you sold all your stuff." Damon added.

"I don't need it. The apartment in Paris is already furnished."

"Still, you could have given it to me."

"To add to your pile of crap?" Stefan pointed out, taking the vacant side of the sofa.

"Nothing I own is crap."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep." Damon confirmed with a pop of the 'p', feigning confidence when he was actually worried as to what ammo his little brother held that fed the mischievous smile on his face.

"Then what about this?" Stefan whipped what looked like a photograph from the front pocket of his dark jeans and held it up. As soon as Damon processed exactly what it was, his quick reflexes allowed him to extend a hand to grab the photograph, which unfortunately became a wasted movement when Stefan pulled it back and leapt from the sofa.

"You're dead." Damon promised while on his brother's tail. It didn't take him long to take a hold of Stefan's shirt and drag him to a stop, his free hand reaching for the photograph while Stefan struggled to get away, but lucky for him, he was slightly stronger than Stefan. The same moment his grasp almost got hold on the coveted item, there was a knocking at the door, momentarily forcing their wrestle to be put on hold as Damon went to answer it, not without promising Stefan it wasn't finished between them.

He grabbed the handle and pulled open the door, his amused expression instantly falling into an extreme mixture of surprise, bewilderment and dazed. Trying to find any form of words was useless, instead all he could do was stare, his eyes roaming what was stood before him. Then she spoke.

"Hi," She said timidly, her slender fingers clinging to the jacket she held and her doe eyes filled with emotion.

"Elena."


	20. Chapter 20

**Authors Note: **So I reaaallly wanted to give you two chapters at once, and I've almost finished the next chapter so here it is! haha. Hopefully it'll be up in the next few days, tomorrow preferrably, but you never know. Its repititive but I really can't thank you enough for the reviews. Just when I'm having a hard time with it, or doubting everything, I get a really amazing review and it just helps me so much, so thank you, thank you, thank you :) xxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>20<strong>

"_It's getting dark, and it's all too quiet, and I can't trust anything now. And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake. Oh, I'm holding my breath, won't lose you again. Something's made your eyes go cold." – __**Taylor Swift.**_

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked without emotion, his eyes revealing nothing but the intense blue she had missed every day for two whole months. His body was visibly tense under the fitted navy dress shirt and dark jeans, and his mouth remained in a hard line. Elena was so completely overwhelmed by every emotion she was currently feeling that she feared if she opened her mouth to speak, a sob would escape and she would eventually have a meltdown in front of him. She took a small breath and attempted to say something, anything, she needed to explain everything. But when courage aided her, she was interjected by a voice from within the apartment.

"Damon, it's time to go." Stefan revealed, appearing at Damon's side and finally catching glimpse of Elena. "Elena, hey." He greeted her awkwardly.

"Hi, Stefan." She returned, her grip on her leather jacket becoming painful as her gaze switched back to Damon, his beauty catching her breath every time she set sights on it. She could assume it was because she hadn't seen him for two torturously long months, but she knew it was due to how outstanding his beauty actually was.

"I'm just, going to go… back inside." Stefan turned and disappeared from the doorway.

They were alone once again, and the strength to speak still resided, along with the coldness evident in his expression.

"How are you?" She managed.

"Let's _not_ do that."

"Do what?"

"Pretend like we care."

His words pricked at her, just like he had undoubtedly intended, but she gathered herself. "I do care."

"You haven't cared for two whole months, Elena." He pointed out with venom.

Her head hung. "I know I shouldn't have left like that."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"But I had to." She tried. Of course she had predicted he would be upset with her, she would've found it unnatural if he hadn't greeted her with coldness. But still, she hadn't been prepared for it. Not for the way he was looking at her, the way his voice portrayed nothing but resentment and hatred, and not for the theory that she didn't care for him. Her gaze lifted to his face. "I just needed some time."

Damon scoffed. "You need time? You got it."

He swung the door to a slam in her face, and she couldn't help but jump slightly. She stared at the white painted door, a lump in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes. Forcing down a show of any emotion, Elena turned and wandered aimlessly across the landing, down the stairs and out of the building.

She should've known not to come, but she had to. She couldn't come back to the city and not see him the moment she returned, it wouldn't be right. Of course this is what she had expected, she wasn't an idiot, but it didn't make it hurt any less when the image of him slamming the door in her face flashed in her mind. If she was honest, it hurt more than she could bear. Not wanting to release any tears on the street, along with the worry that if she walked back to Caroline's, the desperate need to let the tears fall from her eyes and for the sob to erupt from her chest would get the best of her strength, she hailed a cab and hurried into the back of it when one came to a stop in front of her, quickly providing the driver with her desired location. She felt… empty. Her only reason for coming back was him, and she found he wanted nothing to do with her. Her presence back in the city was for nothing. It was what she had dreaded the entire journey here.

Saying that she and Caroline had gone to some exotic location to relax and regroup was tempting, but it would be a lie. They had gotten in Caroline's car after she changed out of her wedding dress, and Caroline out of her bridesmaid dress then drove straight to Elena's apartment, packed up all her clothes, put them in the trunk of the car and set off. They didn't know where they were going, but somehow it didn't matter. She told Caroline everything, and to her surprise, she wasn't judgmental, or disgusted in the decisions she had made, she just listened, and understood. They made stops at motels to rest for the night, or if there wasn't one near, they slept in the back of the car, but it didn't always come to that, if Caroline was tired, Elena would take over the driving, and vice versa.

She peered down at the empty finger of her left hand, and smiled. Selling both engagement and wedding ring at the first opportunity had been freeing, she had relished greatly in ridding of them in exchange for the money that would secure them on the road trip with essentials such as gas, or food, and for a long while after. Not that she was in dire need of it, not yet anyway since she was staying with Caroline until she found her own place.

The cab came to a stop, leading her out of her thoughts and into her purse to retrieve the money she owed the driver. Passing it through the small window and giving a pleasant 'thank you', Elena climbed out, shut the car door with a light slam and crossed the pavement, her pumps clipping at the concrete until they met with the laminate floor of the apartment building. She drearily ascended the stairs, her hand still clasping the leather jacket and her fingers digging into the front pouch of the bag that rest upon her shoulder. Eventually pulling out the key Caroline had given her this morning, she smiled at the small monkey key ring that had already been attached, before sliding it into the slot and unlocking the door. She slipped inside, being well aware of its emptiness because Caroline was at work, dropped her bag to the floor and hung her jacket on the coat hanger.

She wondered how much Damon hated her, if it was so much that a chance of them every being together again was void, and that very thought was enough to force a tear from her eye and create an unbearable pain inside her chest. Everything was so messed up. She had almost married Frank because of how terrified she was that Damon only had feelings for her because she resembled his ex-girlfriend, and left the city for exactly the same reason, causing the development of hatred and resentment he now had for her. All of a sudden, she had become the villain in this, which didn't seem entirely fair to her. She hadn't lied about the reason for her attraction to him; she hadn't failed to mention that he just so happened to look very much like her ex. She asked how could he hate her for doing what she felt she had to due to his suppress of the truth, but however much she wanted to convince herself that was the case, guilt still tormented her.

She plopped down onto the pink velvet sofa and ran a hand through the top of her hair, effectively pulling the thick curls from her face and pulling her legs up to delve together as her gaze scanned the apartment, catching glimpse of the large unpacked bags full of her clothes across the apartment. A wonder of where exactly she was going to put them all arose, followed by the aim that she would definitely need to find her own place soon. The question was; where? Should she look for one in the city? Or move somewhere else completely and start a life over?

Advantages of the second option were many; no-one would know about her past, she wouldn't have to worry about Frank eventually 'dealing' with her, and the ache in her heart wouldn't present itself because she wouldn't bump into Damon. Then again, the thought of _not _seeing him, well, that triggered much more than a simple ache, but so did the thought of seeing him and knowing they wouldn't be together again. It was quite the predicament.

* * *

><p>"Elena," a small whisper of her name and a soft shaking at her shoulder broke the slumber she'd embedded in. Elena's lids fluttered open to find Caroline crouched in front of the sofa, her thick blonde curls radiant with the glow of the apartment lamps and her usual bright blue eyes tired. Elena sat up, the prediction that she had been asleep for a good few hours built from the darkness evident outside the apartment window. She pushed the hair from her face and smiled at her best friend.<p>

"Hi," Elena greeted Caroline happily.

"Hi, friend." Caroline returned and stood up, proceeded to the kitchen, shortly followed by Elena.

"Where've you been?" Elena queried while grabbing a pint glass from one of the overhead cupboards, holding it under the sink tap and watching the water rise, only when it almost reached the rim did she twist the tap to off.

Caroline made a noise of complete disgust. "I was swamped with work, thanks to my idiot of a colleague."

"Tyler?"

"The one and only," she stated with bitterness, her head lost in the refrigerator but Elena could just imagine the eye roll she was giving. Though Caroline would deny it, Elena knew there was something between her and Tyler, and that was exactly why he infuriated her so much. Caroline appreciated someone who challenged her, and that's exactly what Tyler did, and what Matt couldn't. "Anyway, enough about me," she retrieved herself from the rummage of the fridge and pushed the door shut, her hands still empty. "How did it go with Damon?"

And there it was.

Elena shook her head and the barrier fell, her face losing its composure and making way for the waterfall of tears to begin while Caroline naturally moved to embrace her, their arms simultaneously wrapping around one another, Caroline's hand taking a comforting placement on the back on Elena's head. "Not so good." Elena revealed in a small voice.

"What happened?"

"He doesn't want me anymore."

Caroline pulled back, her hands relocating to either side of Elena's face in attempt to calm her desperate sobs. "Sure he does."

Her head shook fiercely between Caroline's soft grasp. "No, no, he doesn't. He hates me."

"Elena," Caroline caught her undivided attention, their eyes locking. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you; he's just angry right now."

"What do I do?" It was the question she'd been asking herself since she watched Damon slam the door in her face. What should she do? Give up, because that's what he told her to do by granting her the time apart from him she didn't even want? Or should she go against that?

"Well, you can give up, or you can fight."

"He doesn't want me to fight." A few more tears escaped at the realism of it all.

"Does it matter?" she pointed out. "If there's even the slightest chance you could be together, don't you want to fight for it?"

Elena took a few moments to think. Of course if there was a chance of them being together, she wanted it, but was there any point in fighting a losing battle? Would it make any difference? Would she feel any less heartache if she fought but still lost? Would it make it worth it? Maybe it would hurt her even more, but if she didn't try, the question of 'what if' would always haunt her; and that was something she couldn't face. So it was decided; she would fight. She would fight because he fought to make her realize she was worth more than a marriage to a man she didn't love, he broke down her barrier and got inside, ultimately earning an intense love from her.

She gave a small nod, much to Caroline's approval and wiped away her tears.

"So, what's the plan?"

"What do you mean?" Elena sniffled, watching as Caroline snatched up one of the takeout menus from the kitchen island and moseyed off towards the living area.

"I mean," She emphasized, dropping heavily onto the sofa and shuffling into a comfortable position before continuing. "What pushes the mighty Damon Salvatore's buttons?"

"Why?"

"How else are we going to make him realize he can't live without you?"

Elena joined her best friend on the sofa. "Shouldn't he already know?" she asked glumly.

"He's a man, they don't know anything."

"Caroline, I don't know…"

"Come on," She urged. "If it doesn't work, we'll move on to plan B."

"What's plan B?"

"Plan B is you begging him to give you another chance."

Elena grimaced. She never had been good at groveling for what she wanted; she had much too much pride for that. But with Damon, everything went out the window. She loved him, and if she was going to fight for him, then she was going to do anything in her power to make him give her another chance; even if that meant groveling.

"Okay," Elena agreed after a few moments. "What do we do?"

"It's Halloween this weekend." Caroline beamed.

"So?"

"_So_, I'm dressing you up."

She marked the mischievous smile Caroline's lip tugged into with wary, but still managed to hope that whatever trick she had up her sleeve, it would be a successful one.

* * *

><p>"Caroline, I'm not sure about this…" Elena said while eyeing the full length mirror that provided her with the view of Caroline's masterpiece. From the plain black shoes, to the long-sleeved, skin tight black dress which began with a low V neck line and ended at the top of her thighs, leaving the olive skin of her legs completely bare. Her chocolate brown hair fell down in its usual curls, while her eyelids were shadowed with a smoky effect and her lips were painted with red gloss. She bared her teeth, and almost laughed at how realistic the fangs attached to her canines seemed.<p>

"Elena, everyone loves vampires, even guys." Caroline assured, her own pair of fangs showing as she spoke.

"Damon isn't exactly a typical _guy."_

"No, but he is male; which means he is going to be drooling all over himself when he gets a look at you tonight."

"How do you even know he's going to be there?" Elena queried with hope in her voice, and Caroline gave away nothing, instead she brought a forefinger to her nose and tapped it twice, earning a scowl from Elena before whirling around and flitting off to the kitchen where the wine and vodka resided. Shaking her head with a smile on her lips, Elena looked over her appearance once more then followed Caroline's lead to the alcohol she would definitely need a quarter of before seeing Damon at Lloyd's in a few hours. She could only hope the outfit wasn't the entirety of Plan A, otherwise she wasn't so confident it was going to work.

"Do you want wine or vodka?" Caroline held up both bottles.

"Vodka," Elena grabbed the bottle by its neck, twisted the lid until it came off and carefully tilted the bottle until the clear liquid was relocated into the bottom of the glass in the form of an estimated double. Grabbing a mixer and swiftly adding it, she took a taste. "Definitely vodka."

"So," Elena spun around. "Who do you want drooling over you tonight?" she queried with a raised eyebrow and devilish smile.

"No-one," Caroline said rather too quickly.

"Liar." Elena accused with unwavering confidence. She knew Caroline was wearing her 'killer red dress' for someone, and the question was; who? Matt or Tyler, or maybe there was someone else in competition for her affections? Well, she'd soon find out. Caroline's flirting could be spotted a mile off, and she intended to keep an eye out for it.

And it didn't take long for it to make an appearance, the moment they stepped into Lloyds, Elena noticed Caroline's colleague Tyler Lockwood across the bar surrounded by a few of his friends, dressed as some kind of Spartacus warrior that allowed his entire upper-body to be on show and the way Caroline's eyes raked his body was undeniable. Oh, she wanted him, without a doubt. Elena's lips tugged up into a smirk and she took hold of Caroline's hand, persuading her towards the bar with little effort. Ordering two tequila shots and pushing the second to Caroline, who took it between her fingers and washed it down more than willingly without the salt beforehand, resulting in a small wince and rapid whip of her head. Elena laughed, accepted the salt from the barman that luckily wasn't Matt, licked the back of her hand and poured a small amount on, only to lick it straight back off, swallow down the shot and wedge the lemon into her mouth, sucking with desperation to not be left with the burn she knew would come if she did what Caroline had.

"Another?" Elena asked.

Caroline gave a quick nod, while her eyes were preoccupied. "I'll need it with _him_ here."

Elena followed her best friend's gaze to locate Tyler through the crowd once more, this time without company, and his lean against the bar created the assumption that he was also waiting to order a drink. She spotted him catch Matt's attention almost immediately; they were best friends after all, and couldn't help but make comparisons between both men. Both were extremely attractive, however, while Matt held the boy-next-door good looks, sweetness and charm, Tyler on the other hand, had a certain dark edge to both his physical attractiveness and personality that seemed to mix perfectly with the kindness and caring nature he also provided.

Caroline may pretend to hate Tyler, but that hadn't stopped Elena from being fond of him. A fondness she was more than certain Caroline shared, because though they differed in their looks, Matt and Tyler had equally addictive personalities. If someone didn't want to like them, she doubted they could resist in doing exactly that, hence the certainty of her best friends hatred of him being forced.

"Mm-hmm," the suggestive hint in Elena's voice made Caroline turn with a narrowed set of blue eyes.

"What?"

"You like him." Elena stated playfully.

"No, I do not!" Caroline exclaimed in outrage, a drastic increase in the pitch of her voice catching the attention of people close-by and dragging a chuckle from Elena. "I _do not _like him." she persisted while Elena ordered another round of shots, an extreme satisfied smile surpassing her pouted lips as the bartender returned swiftly with two shot glasses filled with Tequila, two lemon slices and a salt shaker. "He's anal." Caroline added after knocking back her shot.

Elena spluttered. "I'm sorry, he's what?"

"Anal."

"He's anal?"

"Yes, he is completely anal."

"What does that even mean?" Elena managed to question in between laughs.

"Well, isn't this cozy?"

They both turned towards the unexpected interruption, their eyes simultaneously narrowing at the owner of the sarcastic comment. _Katherine. _

Just like the first time Elena set eyes on her, at first glance, even dressed as a sexy school girl, Katherine could pass as her identical twin sister, but looking more closely, there were a few differences. The most noticeable, the thing she had noticed almost straight away at Damon's apartment, even in her shocked-induced haze, was their eye color; Katherine's were almost black. And now that they were stood a foot apart, and her mind wasn't in overload, she could spot the other small differences. While Katherine also had a pair of lips that could be described as a perfect pout, they weren't as full as Elena's, and nor was her hair as thick, but her nose was cuter. Elena had always taken pride in her nose; therefore the discovery of Katherine's being _that_ much cuter than her own triggered a scowl to form across Elena's features, especially because Damon had always told her he loved her nose, and to show it, he would place a kiss there. Just the thought of him preferring Katherine's, and mirroring the gesture she only wanted for herself, made her green with envy. She was being petty, she knew it. Yet she couldn't care right now.

"Not anymore it's not." Elena muttered.

Katherine shot a smile that could only be described as pure evil, with a hint of seduction; something that seemed to radiate off her. "Ooh, these grapes are sour."

Elena kept a strong hold on her furrowed brow and briefly peered at Caroline, finding the same glower directed at Katherine plastered there. She spun around, grabbed the shot that'd been waiting to be consumed since it was served and poured it down her throat as if feeding the courage to be blunt.

"Let's be clear about something," Elena began. "I don't like you."

A soft, condescending chuckle escaped Katherine. "You don't know me, Elena."

"Maybe not," she twisted and set down the empty shot glass. "But I'm not an idiot. I wouldn't trust you as far as I could throw you."

"Is that so?" Katherine practically purred, her lips tugging into a flirtatious half-smile that reminded Elena of Damon's knee-weakening version.

Elena's laugh was half-hearted, but her movement was strong as she took a step towards the woman who held many physical similarities to her. But that was it; only physically were they similar. And that very revelation is what gave her hope. Hope that Damon's initial attraction towards her may have been because she resembled Katherine, but that wasn't why he loved her. He loved who she was, not who she looked like. If only she had realized that before.

"You can't get me under your spell with a quick bat of your eyelashes and a smile."

"You'd know all about doing that wouldn't you?" Katherine stated. "You are a whore after all."

Caroline tensed and the loss of her temper became noticeable when she took a step to Katherine, only to be interjected by Elena's arm.

"Was," Elena corrected darkly, keeping her best friend at bay.

"Really?" she feigned surprise. "Not according to Damon."

Elena had promised she would never lower herself to getting into a cat fight, and she wasn't about to break it. "Funny, I've heard the same thing about you."

"Mm. Maybe we share more than just looks then."

"I'm nothing like you." Elena promised.

Katherine smiled another evil smile. "We'll see."

Too preoccupied with their clashing, a new arrival went unnoticed by Elena until the velvet smooth voice rang out, effectively setting every nerve of her body on high alert.

"Katherine, don't you have an underworld to reign?"

"Careful, Damon." Katherine warned, her black eyes remaining locked with Elena's brown. "You may just hurt my feelings, and we both know what happens when I'm hurt."

"You stamp your foot and pout?" Damon mocked with a dead serious expression, causing Katherine to finally turn and provide him with a scowl before sauntering off. It wasn't until she disappeared did Elena turn back to encounter a catch of her breath as she discovered the smile of victory on Damon's perfect lips. A smile that disappeared the moment his gaze found her.

"Thank you." Elena finally managed, somehow completely forgetting about her best friend's existence for the moment.

His brow creased and her stomach knotted profoundly in dread of what he was about to say. "That wasn't for you." He told her outright, turned and walked away, his travels aimed to the other side of the bar; leaving Elena with her attempts to stifle the growing feeling of hurt.

"Never a dull moment," Caroline murmured softly.

Elena nodded weakly in agreement, and even with the gaping hole of doubt that increased with every meeting between her and Damon, as to whether he cared for her, if he even loved her anymore, she sucked in a breath and trailed after him, a determination of getting him to talk to her burning in her veins. Sidling in next to him, and marking his cold acknowledgement of her, she wondered how things could've changed so drastically over a few months. His eyes used to light up when he saw her, now they did nothing.

"Can we talk?" She requested coyly.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked without interest.

"Us,"

"There is no 'us', there never was an 'us', you made sure of that." he retorted.

"Damon," she pleaded. "Please don't be like this."

"Be like what? Angry, pissed off?"

"You're acting like this was my fault."

"It is." Damon seethed.

"No, it's not. We both did this." Elena began. "I may have left, but you're the one who lied to me."

She watched him run a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm not doing this." he vowed.

"You can't ignore me forever." She pointed out.

"Watch me."


	21. Chapter 21

**Authors Note: **This one's shorter I knoww! :( but it had to be! So here it is :D I've started the next one, so I'll try to get it up as soon as I can for you. Enjoy lovely people! xxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>21<strong>

"_The broken locks were a warning, you got inside my head. I tried my best to be guarded; I'm an open book instead. I still see your reflection inside of my eyes that are looking for a purpose; they're still looking for life." – __**Lifehouse.**_

"Yes, I am completely sober, Stefan." Damon said down the phone with a hint of annoyance and a roll of his eyes that his younger brother couldn't witness.

"_What about Elena? Have you spoken to her?"_

"I wouldn't exactly call it talking…" The subject of Elena took him back to the night of Halloween, how coldly he'd treated her, how amazing she'd looked dressed as a vampire. The way that black dress clung to every line of her flawless body made it that much harder for him to be cruel to her. If she was dressed in a black bag it would remain a difficult task for him not to trace every inch of her, because he knew how beautiful she was without any clothes at all, and he knew how beautiful the soul inside such a flawless body was. The moment he stepped foot into Lloyd's he spotted her. The way she laughed, smiled, even the way she knocked back a shot managed to transfix his gaze, and it frustrated him. And as he watched her stand up to Katherine, well, that was the moment he knew she was stronger now, that somehow two months away, to heal, and regroup, she had come back tougher. It amazed him, and made it harder to be angry at her, but still he managed to pull it off; with extreme effort might he add. He had found it almost impossible to lie to her, but he managed it. And that's exactly what it was, when he told her he hadn't got in the middle of her and Katherine for her, and effectively sent the she-devil on her way, it was a complete lie, because of course it was for her. He may be angry, but he would never _not_ defend her; it came naturally to him somehow.

"_Oh god, don't tell me you slept with her and left her the next morning just to get back at her."_

"No!" Damon exclaimed. "Who do you think I am?"

Stefan's chuckle forced a smile from Damon. _"I know exactly who you are. And we both know it's exactly what you would've done if you weren't still in love with her."_

"I'm not still in love with her." He lied.

"_Love like that doesn't just disappear after a few months."_

"Well it has."

"_You're such a liar."_

"Am not!"

"_How many women have you slept with this week? Or this month, even."_

He had been outsmarted by his younger brother, therefore he was rendered unresponsive. Not sleeping with any other woman was the ultimate giveaway that he was still in love with Elena, because everyone knew how much he enjoyed sex, yet not even his desire for it seemed enough to make him pick up any random woman, to take what he needed and never call her again. That was normal to him, well, it used to be. But he way he felt wouldn't allow him to even think about being with anyone else.

"Okay, I don't have time for this." Damon kept the phone tight to his ear while grabbing the suit jacket with his free hand. "Some of us have work."

"_You're avoiding." _

Damon huffed. "You're lucky you're in Paris, otherwise I'd be beating you with a rolled up newspaper right about now."

"_You're lucky I'm in Paris."_

"Great comeback Stefan, really, amazing work. I'm almost ashamed to say I raised you." Damon returned sarcastically and ended the call, dropped his cellphone into the pocket of his pants and slipped into his jacket while exiting the apartment.

He more than willingly went into work every morning due to the simple assurance that he wouldn't have to work on keeping his promise of ignoring Elena, because luckily for him, after she left Frank at the altar, her job as his PA was forfeited. Damon moved through the foyer of Miller & Anderson, unaware of his surroundings or colleagues, just his thoughts and inner-turmoil.

He could disagree with Stefan's theory that love didn't disappear in a few months, from experience, he knew it did. But the kind of love he had for Elena hadn't, sometimes he doubted it ever would wane. It hadn't over the months she had been gone, and it hadn't over the last week since the moment she returned, and he hated it. And though he could never actually tell her the words, he would surely have her convinced he didn't love her anymore. Just to inflict the same pain, the same doubts, the same paralyzing fear he felt every single day that she was gone. She may have told him she loved him, but her actions told something entirely different, and she hadn't uttered the words a second time, which convinced him even further that she didn't truly love him. So he was spitefully returning the favor.

Still, he was conflicted, and he ran a hand over his face in frustration once calling for the elevator. He was the rope between two opposite sides of himself, one side wanted her to hurt, to feel the pain he had to bear, because it lessened his, while the other side… couldn't bear her being hurt, and it hated him for being the one who's causing it.

Why couldn't he just be ruthless, and not give a damn about her pain? All she had to do was show up with her doe eyes and her sweet nature and his heart, his whole body, would involuntarily ache for her. Why couldn't he relish in the idea of her pain? He wanted to, yet he wasn't able to. It was maddening.

The elevator came to a stop and allowed him entry onto his floor, to come into meeting with the same feeling of realization followed by loneliness due to his brother's departure as he proceeded down the corridor towards his office. Closing the door behind him and peering around once before dropping into his chair behind the desk, he thought about the moments shared here, on the desk, in the chair he sat in, and just as quickly as they wandered into his thoughts, he pushed them back out. As if being handed a distraction by fate, the door to his office opened, and he was corrected in his assumptions; this was the work of Satan.

"Oh god," Damon groaned. "Twice in one month? That is much too inconvenient."

Katherine smiled in return, a hand on her jutted out hip and the same predatory look in her almost black eyes that reared its head whenever she wanted something. And from personal experience, Damon knew she usually got it.

"Hello, Damon." She greeted him silkily.

"Let's skip pleasantries." He said outright. "What do you want?"

"I want you to set a meeting between me and Elena."

Damon narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Just do it, Damon." She demanded.

"Tell me why you want to meet with her."

Katherine huffed and let her hand fall from her side.

"Oh, I see. You want to sleep with her, because she looks like you." He mocked.

"I don't know," her mouth upturned and she approached the desk. "Is that why _you_ slept with her?"

Damon's face fell from its teasing structure and reformed into annoyance. What was it with everyone outsmarting him today? After a few moments of consideration, he made a reply. "Fine, I'll get her to meet with you." He stood up. "But you can add another guest to your party."

"And who would that be?"

"Me."

"No, no way." Katherine shook her head fiercely, making Damon even more curious as to why she would want to meet with Elena, more importantly, why did she want them alone? If that was what she wanted? He knew Katherine, she loved to play mind games, and if he'd learned anything, he needed be prepared for a hidden agenda, along with the strong possibility of Frank's involvement.

"If you didn't want me involved, then why come here?"

"You're the only connection between us. I don't know where she is, how to contact her."

"You're lying." He accused with both confidence and amusement in his voice while slipping around the edges of his mahogany desk, and ceasing to a stop in front of Katherine. "You could dig up fossils with your bare hands if you put your mind to it."

"Thank you." Her smile was mischievous, and if her eyes showed any color, he had no doubt they would've flashed.

"It wasn't a compliment."

She relaxed from her stand against him and a feeling of success found Damon. "What do you want me say?"

"The truth,"

"I'm not lying about anything."

The soft vulnerability mixed with her voice almost made him believe she was being honest, that she in fact not hiding anything, but then he remembered what he had only a few seconds before; she was an expert at manipulation, _and_ in association with Frank. He had every reason to be cautious. But he would have to go about finding the truth about her intentions another way.

"I'll get her to meet with you." Damon agreed with a clenched jaw of reluctance. "And I'll see you there."

"Fine," She returned with equal unwilling, turned and began to saunter from the confines of the office, her hips purposely swaying to attract attention.

"Katherine."

She turned back to him, her hand remaining in a grasp on the door handle.

"Why are you involved with Frank?" He queried. "Is it money?"

Her head shook lightly. "It's not for the money."

And with that simple reveal, she left, triggering an increase in Damon's curiosity as to what the actual reason for their involvement was. He shouldn't care, but it involved Elena, therefore his natural instinct to protect her had kicked into overdrive, even if he was on a mission to temporarily make her miserable, it would have to be put on hold for the time being. He would have no choice but to be civil, mostly.

Retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, he swiftly typed a message to Elena stating they needed to talk while retracing Katherine's exit from his office and making his way to Rose's desk further down the corridor. He leant his folded arms on the desks surface and her green eyes lifted to attention. "Rose, I have to leave right now, but I'll be back in a little while," Damon informed her. "Any emergency calls; forward them to my cell. But _only_ if they're emergency."

Rose nodded and smiled in understanding, and Damon set off on his travels towards the elevator.

A cab ride later, he was lifting a clenched hand to knock against the wood of Elena's apartment door, his thoughts filled with both dread and excitement at seeing her. It made him want to kick himself; he was supposed to be angry with her, not overcome with anticipation at the very idea of seeing her. It was supposed to be a strictly platonic visit, where he would inform her of Katherine's offer to meet, and add the small detail that he would also be there, and leave. But the moment the door was pulled open and she stood there, looking at him; he knew he wouldn't want to leave too soon. His eyes naturally roamed every part of her, just like they always had, and she murmured a small 'Hi', to which he nodded once in response and slipped inside once she stood aside for him.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she said once the door was closed, and her body took a lean against it.

"Not about us." He said quickly, and watched the look of disappointment possess the beautiful features of her face.

"What is it then?"

"Katherine," he took a moment. "She wants to meet with you."

Hurt was replaced by confusion and followed by an opening of her mouth to let out the question; "Why?"

"I'm not sure yet." He replied, while his gaze seemed to be having trouble resisting taking a trip down the length of her body. The way the tight black leggings hugged her perfect legs, the loose t shirt she undoubtedly wore for comfort and the fantasy of what she had residing underneath overwhelmed the urge of escaping the apartment before he did something he really shouldn't. Unfortunately, she was leaning against his exit out of there. "I'm going to be there, so…" he trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. Should he tell her the truth? That he was tagging along because he was worried about her? No, that was definitely not a good idea.

Hope reformed on her face, rising a part of him that wanted to fulfill it, give her what she craved, a certainty that there was a chance for them, but so did the part of him that wanted to make her disappointed, to watch her face fall and twist into hurt when his actions revealed there was no chance.

"Well… that's all I came to say." He approached the door, and expected her to naturally move away from it, but when she didn't, he was forced to come to a stop a safe distance away. "So, I guess I'm going to… go."

It was apparent he didn't want to leave at all, and he didn't need to see the look on her face to know she didn't want him to either. And here was the moment he had a decision to make. He could leave, spare himself a soul baring day that would inevitably end in them calling it a day anyway due to too many obstacles between them, or he could accept the offer he knew she was about to make.

"Or you could stay, we could talk."

Damon took a breath and his decision presented itself. "I can't."

"Right," She murmured glumly and her eyes traced the floor before lifting to his, then she grabbed the door handle and pulled it open to allow him exit. "I'll see you soon."

"Tomorrow," He revealed while slipping around her and into the corridor. "Tomorrow morning, at Lloyds, I'll make sure Katherine gets the message."

"Okay." Elena nodded, her hand still fastened on the door handle.

It literally pained him to go, to leave her with that fear-filled look in her eyes that they wouldn't be together again. Though he wanted it to be so, though he had been the one who instigated such doubts, it hurt him to see her believing it to be true, that they didn't have a chance, because he knew it was a lie. There would always be a chance, he couldn't imagine a day when there wouldn't be. It would never be off the table, not for a long while, because after all that's said and done, he loved her, and he didn't see that changing, not any time soon. He loved the way she gathered her hair over her one shoulder when she was nervous, he loved the way she had no realization of how beautiful she was, the way she walked, the way her lips pouted and her eyes widened when she wanted something from him, and he loved how pure her soul was. With all that in mind, he still turned, ever so slowly, and proceeded across the landing, listening intently for the click of the door shutting, but it didn't come, not until his foot dropped off the last step of the staircase, and then it came.


	22. Chapter 22

**Authors Note: **Here it is then! I've sort of been working on two other stories at the same time, which are both about Damon and Elena BTW ;D but I won't be putting them up until this is finished. I appreciate every single one of you for the reviews and for the favouriting and everything, it makes me so happy. You're all amazing. We havent heard about the necklace in a while, but fear not, it's waiting to rear its head when the moment comes! I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think :) xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>22<strong>

"_I don't know if anything is going to happen between us, again, ever. But I don't want to know that it never could." – **F.R.I.E.N.D.S**_

_Watch me._

The words seem to echo through her for an entire two weeks, overwhelming, overbearing, painfully. At least he was a man of his word. That's exactly what she'd had to endure; his purpose avoidance of her, the cold brief glares that emotionally impaled her, until yesterday. She had been all set to pick away at his ice cold exterior but it turned out, Damon was the connection between herself and Katherine, which led to him visiting her apartment yesterday morning, to reveal Katherine wanted to meet, along with the fact that he was also going to be there. Of course, he never gave her to reason. God forbid he should show any feelings, he was being too stubborn with her for that. So now, they were sat in a booth at Lloyd's next to one another, awaiting Katherine's arrival. She didn't know why he took the space next to her when there was an entire vacant seat right across the table and he had been giving the vibe that he hated her for the last few weeks, but nevertheless, she was glad he did. And that was why she hadn't given up; there were small minor details that made her sure he still felt something, no matter how small it was, she was giving up. She wouldn't, not until he told that he didn't love her 's the only reason she would walk away.

Elena wrung her hands together nervously, catching Damon's aimless blank stare across the bar and watched as it lifted to eye her with curiosity. When she continued creating a fierce friction between each hands flesh, he reached out to cover them with his own, effectively halting the anxious movements along with inducing a shoot of electricity through her in response to the contact. Her eyes locked onto his and he immediately pulled away.

"Shouldn't she be here by now?" Elena asked with an impatience fuelled by anxiety once his gaze returned to marking the entrance.

"She's Katherine." He said. "She _loves _to keep people waiting."

"Does that include you?" she both rhetorically and cynically queried, the bitter edge of her voice urging Damon to turn in the seat they shared until his body was angled openly, instead of the freeze out she'd been receiving since they had arrived here.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

They both knew what it meant, what she was insinuating, but obviously Damon wanted it confirmed that she was in fact accusing him of still waiting on the wings for his ex-girlfriend to get over herself. Elena may have realised she was the complete opposite of Katherine, but it didn't necessarily mean she was convinced that was the reason Damon wanted her, it was more than likely he developed feelings for her because of the resemblance she had to Katherine.

"Nothing," she muttered.

"If you've got something to say, then please, go ahead." His tone was clipped.

"I don't, because according to _you_, we have nothing to say to each other."

"No, we don't." he confirmed, angling his body away from her once again and delving his arms together on the wooden table in front of them.

"And everything is on your terms isn't it?"

"No, it's not on my terms. It's the simple fact that I lost the ability to give a damn about you or your feelings the moment you left."

She could only stare at him, every thought, every feeling was heightened, and after a few long minutes of attempting to process the words he had spoken so venomously to her, she managed to string together a question that could only leave her mouth in a soft murmur. "Then what are you even doing here?"

Now it seemed it was his turn to fall silent. Though he had done his best to convince her that anything he did was not for her, she had still hoped, and ultimately convinced herself that that's exactly what it was; for her. But now, she wasn't so sure. He had viciously pulled the carpet from underneath her feet, and left her with nothing but the cold, hard floor.

"Lover's-tiff?" Katherine crooned, the graceful movements of her body as it slid onto the seat opposite them were erotic as ever, eliciting a reflexive frown from Elena and an apparent unresponsive flicker of a stare from Damon. It infuriated Elena to think that Katherine was the better, much more coveted version of herself, and she hated that that version had gotten Damon first, his affections, his love, his body, along with the possibility that she still had a hold on every part of him, and that's what worried Elena. She could make the offer that if Damon told her there was nothing between him and Katherine anymore, that he indeed felt nothing for her, she would accept it, and her worries would ease. But she wasn't sure such a statement would, or if any type of gesture would provide her with what she needed. Most of all, she hated that this had all become irrelevant, and she had ended up the villain of the story because of her departure. She had been through a lot in her life, so why had that single lie hurt more than anything she had ever experienced? Because she had trusted him, with her heart, with the truth of her past, and all she seemed to have in return was something that barely fell short of a betrayal? Did she have no right to still feel hurt because of it?

Elena huffed impatiently as Katherine eyed her from across the table, their long, chocolate coloured hair styled almost identically in curls, while their makeup and outfits had their differences. Katherine wore her usual outfit picked solely to seduce, the tight black leggings fitting like a glove and the body-hugging lilac vest accentuating the slightness of her mid-riff along with the curves of her breasts. "Can we get this over with?" Elena asked, annoyed.

"What's your hurry?" Katherine queried with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"My _hurry_ is that I don't like you." Elena returned with poison in her voice; something she had never succumbed to. Then again, she had never been this jealous of someone having their perfectly manicured claws lodged into the man she was in love with, because for starters, she had never been in love, and she certainly had never met any of her 'clients' ex-girlfriends, nor would she have desired to, because that's all they ever were; clients. And Frank, well, she knew as much about him as the rest of the city knew; very little.

"Ooh, I like her," Katherine turned her gaze to Damon. "She's got spunk."

"I'm sat right here."

"I know, like looking into a mirror isn't it?"

Elena winced. Katherine had hit her where it hurt; in the weak spot that had only become unprotected because of the two people sat in the same booth as her.

"Can we leave the cat fight until later?" Damon interjected with a peeved tone, and his gaze switching between the two of them then finally settled on Katherine.

"You know what? That is a great idea." Katherine agreed with enthusiasm, lifted a slender arm into the air and gestured with her hand to the barman something that neither Damon nor Elena knew its exact meaning, until a few minutes later when three fresh drinks were being placed onto the dark wooden table surface between them. It only took Elena to recognize the stench of bourbon and her nose wrinkled in response to the memory of its taste the night Damon bought her one, the same night he took her home with him for the very first time, and how she bailed on him still managed to arise a small form of guilt within. Maybe he did have every right to be angry with her, she was beginning to think so herself. He had time after time offered himself to her, gave her the chance to share a life with him, and every time she threw it back in his face. No wonder they were here. Had she really expected him to wait around for her to finally make up her mind? That was selfish wasn't it? Expecting the person you love to wait until you have the courage to leave someone you didn't love, assuming they'll still be there the moment you're free. But he was; Damon was there. He was there the moment she ran from the church, his blue eyes filled with promise, and his smile joyous. And she left. Of course he was mad at her, _she_ was even mad at her. But that wasn't going to stop her from making it right. She needed to make him realize what they had is stronger than a few bumps in the road, that she wasn't giving up until they fixed this, even if it took a while.

"Look, Elena." Katherine began, effectively dragging Elena from her thoughts. "I didn't come here to fight with you. I didn't come here as Frank's accomplish, and I didn't come as your enemy."

"Then why did you?" Elena queried with a narrowed set of chocolate brown eyes.

"I'm trying to help you." Katherine explained.

Elena snorted. "And why don't I believe you?"

"Believe what you want."

Elena took one of the crystalized glass tumblers in her slender grasp and brought it to her lips, pouring a small amount into her mouth while shutting her eyes tight and allowing it passage down her throat, she did her best to keep the seer look of disgust from presenting itself on her face in regards to the liquid burning its way to her stomach. Re-opening her eyes and setting down the glass, she brought the pad of her fingers to check her lips for any excess liquid left over, when finding none, she let her hand return to rest on the table and set her gaze back on Katherine.

"_Why_ would you want to help me?" Elena asked after a few moments of silence.

"Who said it was for you?" Katherine returned and her eye-line wandered a few inches until it found Damon. Within an instant, Elena's blood had boiled to a dangerous temperature, and the natural instinct to keep Damon's affections with her, and _only _her, had kicked in, making room for the urge to tell Katherine to give up on her plan to win Damon back because there was no chance of that happening. But she remained silent, because the fact that there was no certainty that he would ever allow Katherine another chance did so, therefore she took hold of the glass tumbler for the second occasion, and this time consumed the entire contents with one quick tilt.

"Let's cut the crap." Damon requested with impatience, finally picking up the untouched glass of bourbon and swallowing down a large quantity.

"You just assumed I turned up that day at your apartment because Frank told me to do it. What you never considered was that I pitched the idea to him."

"So, you're a conniving bitch who's expert at persuading." He evaluated.

"No. I know Frank. I know what he would've done to you if you'd taken his prized possession," Katherine pointed a forefinger at Elena. "From him, so, I tore you apart."

"The only thing Frank would've done to me was take my job." Damon pointed out.

Katherine shook her head, picked up the glass tumbler with graceful movements and swallowed a sip of it down, removing it from her pouted lips and keeping it in her grasp, she twirled it in a small circle while watching the effects within before finally lifting her eyes to catch with Damon's. "If that's what you think you're even stupider than I thought."

"Frank said you approached him, gave him an offer he couldn't refuse."

Katherine nodded lightly.

"What was the offer?"

"Me." She answered.

"Why?"

"Let's just say; we have unfinished business."

"What kind of unfinished business?"

"The kind you can't know about."

"If you can't tell us anything, what are we even doing here?" Elena jumped in.

"I need you to stay out of his way." Katherine told her. "At least until I'm finished."

"Stay out of his way? He isn't even looking for me."

"Yes, he is."

"What?"

"You didn't tell her." Katherine looked to Damon.

"Tell me what?"

"He's been looking for you since you left." Katherine revealed. "He's not finished with you."

Elena looked at Damon with a building sense of fear overwhelming her, the current look on his face providing the answer to the question on her lips. He had known Frank was looking for her, and hadn't said anything. Out of spite, or consideration? Before she had a chance to ask, Katherine was continuing. "Just do as I ask, and everything will run smoothly."

"What's in it for you?"

"I already told you," Katherine said, the annoyance flowing freely in her tone.

"That you can't tell us," Damon finished. "So you have a dirty little secret that puts you in connection with Frank, and currently on a path of destruction, can't say I'm surprised."

"I think you're forgetting that I did something to help you out." Katherine shot back.

"And why would you do that again?"

"You may have moved on from what we had, doesn't mean I have."

Elena looked back and forth between them, from the calm and composed expression plastered on the face almost identical to her own to the bewildered one on Damon's. Then she recognized something; a spark. Elena didn't know if it was a spark of recognition in regards to what they had once shared, or if it was something much more intense. Either way, she didn't like it.

"I'm going to, uh… get some air." Elena murmured clumsily while slipping out from under the table, rising to a stand and grabbing her bag from its hanging place on the back of the seat. Swinging it onto her shoulder, she rushed from the suffocating atmosphere, and out the front entrance where she finally released the breath she'd apparently been holding since the moment she saw the man she was in love with and his ex-girlfriend re-connect. The possibility of her being in competition for Damon didn't raise a competitive streak in the slightest; it made her waver in certainty to whether she would win. From what Damon had told her, Katherine was great at getting what she wanted, and if what she wanted was Damon, therefore it was likely Katherine was going to get him, especially since he wanted nothing to do with her now. What would she do if Katherine got him? Would the fight to have him become more desperate, more aggressive? Would she compromise her pride just to have him back in her arms? Of course she would. Reason, everything, went out the window when it came to love. At least with this kind of love it did. It was something she had never felt before, and it was by far, the most she had felt. He brought her to life when she was cold, trapped under the soil, and even now when they weren't together, he still kept her alive, kept her breathing, kept her… feeling. He saved her when everything seemed at its darkest, when she felt nothing but hopeless, a torturous emptiness and loneliness, when she had willingly accepted her fate. Was that why she loved him? Why she couldn't let go? Because he saved her, gave her a taster of what it was to be alive, and now she was hooked? Everything seemed certain, yet so uncertain. She was certain she loved him, but suddenly uncertain where those feelings had originated from. Had they developed solely because of the reawakening he stirred within her? Or had it been inevitable that she fall in love with him, because he was Damon Salvatore? But maybe it was genuine, irrevocable love and she had no reason at all to doubt it, maybe this was her way of protecting herself from another large dose of heartache and disappointment, to become convinced her love wasn't real, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much when he chose Katherine. One thing was for sure; for once in her life she needed to be strong. But what she directed that strength at was the question in mind. Should she use it to win Damon back, to earn his forgiveness, if it was even attainable? Or should she protect herself? Build a wall around her that no-one could ever get past, a wall that would protect her. They were so many paths laid out before her eyes, while she held no compass to direct her right.

"Are you okay?"

The voice naturally caused her to turn around and meet it. Though she didn't recognize him, her attention was almost instantly enthralled and surprised by the man's soft and attractive features. He wasn't from around here; she knew that for certain because her memory would have definitely pinpointed someone like him. Only when his eyebrows rose slightly in expectance of an answer from her did she realize she was most likely ogling and snapped out of the trance, quickly followed by a upward tug of her lips.

"Define okay." There was amusement in her voice, but inside she knew how important the issue of how 'okay' she actually was at this very moment since the current love of her life was inside the bar, 're-connecting' with the ex-_love_ of his life.

"Well, are you about to jump in front of a bus?" He asked playfully, taking a few small steps towards her stilled frame.

She feigned contemplating the thought with a tap of a finger to the chin, and finally landed on an enthusiastic; "I don't think so."

"Then I think it's safe to say you're not in desperate need of assistance then." The light brown of his eyes carrying a sparkle that became noticeable the moment he came to a stop a foot away from her and furthered the speculation that he was indeed flirting with her. More importantly, she was enjoying it. She was unsure whether it was due to Damon's obvious lack of interest in her now along with the sudden and obvious growing interest he had in Katherine since he hadn't even bothered to follow her out here, but either way, another man flirting with her, showing her interest, made her feel… good. It was stupid to expect Damon to follow her out here, she knew that. However, that didn't mean she didn't desperately hope for him to drop evidence that his feelings of love for her remained. That's what she needed; the assurance, because otherwise, what was she doing here?

Snapping herself out of the seemingly recurring trail of deep thoughts, she gave a timid chuckle and pushed her hair from its possession over her face. "I must have forgotten my manners," She held out a hand. "I'm Elena."

A slight confusion flashed across his handsome features in regards to her introduction, but soon disappeared therefore she set it to the back of her mind.

"Elijah." He took her hand in the surprising warmth of his, twisted it and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles before releasing and straightening back up, effectively forcing her gaze to wander down the length of his body. His dark suit increasing the good impression she already had created of him over the last few minutes, then her eyes travelled upwards until they made contact with the sunlight catching Elijah's hair, revealing its light mousy brown depth, triggering a smile. It was just like her fathers used to be.

"Do you want to get a drink?" Elena asked without thorough thoughts as to whether this would be a good idea. It had the potential to be extremely disadvantageous. For starters, she barely knew him, but he didn't exactly scream serial killer or Satan worshipper, so somehow she'd survive a drink with him. And, he could help with the reason she was back in the city; uncovering Damon's feelings. So when he gave a smile from ear to ear, allowing her discovery of the perfect white teeth behind his lips, along with a small nod of acceptance, she began towards the entrance with Elijah next to her.

"So, you come here often?" Elijah asked in an amused tone.

Elena gave him a knowing smile, sharing a silent agreement of how cliché the statement was. "You don't." she stated matter-of-factly, and he looked at her surprised. "I would've remembered someone like you."

"I would've remembered someone like you." He returned smoothly, his elbow going out to take the lean of his body on the hard surface of the bar while Elena let out a soft giggled laced with nerves. It wasn't that she was interested in this man; she didn't know him enough for that. Of course, she was attracted to him; who wouldn't be? But he didn't give her that tingle, that quicken of her heart beat, and that shot of arousal that went straight to her core. No, _those_ only came when Damon was around.

Then was this wrong? Was she betraying Damon, what they had shared, by having a drink with a stranger? She let her eyes wander over to the booth Damon and Katherine remained sat at, and landed on a decision. No, this wasn't cheating, or betraying. Especially since Damon seemed to be fine with his own much too close and much too flirtatious interaction with Katherine across the room.

"But you're right; I'm not from the city." Elijah revealed, grabbing her focus. "I'm here visiting my brother."

"So, you get along?"

He smiled. "What makes you say that?"

"If you didn't get along, you wouldn't be visiting." She pointed out while watching him provide a gesture towards Matt, to which he swiftly complied, took Elijah's order of two bourbons that came after Elena's silent consent in the form of a nod, and set off to make the drinks.

"Well, this isn't exactly a friendly visit."

Elena's brow furrowed. "So… you _don't_ get along."

"We… tolerate one another."

"Ah," she nodded in understanding and willingly accepted the crystal tumbler filled with only a slight way up with the dark amber liquid. "I think that's the case with a lot of siblings."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Oh, no." she answered almost too quickly with a consistent and fierce shake of her head. "I'm an only child."

"I guess you can count yourself lucky in some ways."

"Yeah," she murmured with improbability as her gaze went to the liquid within the glass she still held in the grasp of her hand. "I don't know about that."

The waved of sadness came over her as she had been reminded of the family she didn't have, along with the past wish she had had that her parents would eventually have another child after her, that was until her father died. After that, she just wanted to forget everything. It hurt too much to wonder, to ask herself every morning when she woke up, what would've happened if he was still alive. Would she be married now? Still living in her hometown, in a house of her own, with a handful of kids and a picket fence, with a job she adored? Every now and then, she felt herself yearning for that other life. Until she realized it would've cost her Damon.

By the time she was finished with her thoughts, Elijah had almost reached the end of his drink, and she would've assumed he was ready to move on from their encounter, get on with whatever he had planned for the rest of the day, if his eyes still didn't hold the twinkle that told her otherwise.

"I'm guessing you do live in the city?"

She nodded. "Five years now."

"Wow," he breathed. "What do you do?"

"I _was_ a PA, but I'm sort of in between jobs at the moment."

A smile flashed along his features and he brought the rim of the glass to touch upon his lips, tilting it at the base until the liquid made passage down his throat. "Well, Elena. I think fate has lent a hand."

"What do you mean?" she naturally queried.

"As of yesterday, I've been looking for a new personal assistant."

Initially, she was ecstatic. But time provided her with doubt, and it told her this was much too coincidental to be genuine. After a few moments of eyeing him curiously, Elena knocked back the untouched bourbon and slammed it down on the bar. "That's… wow." Between the burn created from the alcohol and the curiosity of whether this strange man had a hidden agenda, she found it difficult to discover the right words. So, she settled on the truth. "I don't know what to say."

"You could say yes." Elijah suggested.

"Uh…" Her hand went to her forehead. "But you don't live in the city."

"No, but you could move, if you really want this opportunity, that is."

As if the discomfort she was experiencing had been sensed, or most likely; seen, a hand briefing touched her shoulder and a smooth voice interrupted. "Is everything okay here?"

Elena turned to see slight concern in the pair of ocean blue eyes that tempted her to drown inside them, and quickly triggered the reminder that this wasn't the time to be ogling. "Yeah, everything's fine." She forced a smile, which Damon obviously didn't buy. His brow creased ever so slightly, straightened back out almost immediately and he turned to Elijah.

"Damon Salvatore." He held out a hand, and Elijah accepted it in his own.

"Elijah Smith."

Their hands shook for a few seconds before being released, and Damon wasted no time in excusing himself, along with Elena from the company of Elijah Smith. Taking a soft hold on her upper-arm and urging them to a safe distance away, she couldn't help but revel in the eruption of an incredible shiver his skin created on hers and the awakening of her attention to every detail, until it was gone again, and then a feeling of excitement was replaced with a sense of loss. Such a simple touch would've meant less than nothing if it came from another person, but from him; everything.

"What's going on?" Damon asked, the blue of his eyes boring into hers and the close proximity almost making it difficult for Elena to concentrate on the problem at hand, or even speaking for that matter.

"There's something…" She trailed off, trying to find the appropriate word. "_Off _about him."

"Off?"

"Yes!" She told him, unnerved. "Something's not right."

"Hey," the soothing tone of his voice and the soft touch of his hand on her face effective as the panic vanished, then so did the burn of their flesh together as his hand fell away. "What happened?"

"I just met him outside. He offered me a job." Her voice shook, and if she wasn't preoccupied with the wild run her imagination was doing at that moment, she would've hated the fact that Damon could see her scared. But she couldn't hide it, she was completely scared, and the urge to kick her-self for not being until now presented itself. She may be stronger now, somehow leaving Frank had renewed the belief she had in her ability to be strong, to be the person she knew she was, but that didn't mean Frank didn't scare her anymore. She knew better than that.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." She confirmed.

Damon took a deep breath and his eyes went over to Elijah for a brief moment before returning to her. "Okay. We should go."

Just as he went to take a step, she stopped him. "What if it's Frank? What if he's planning this?"

"It's not." He assured, but Elena could tell not even he believed that. "Just let me take you back to your apartment, and we'll deal with it."

"'We'll deal with this'? You mean you and Katherine?"

"No. I mean you and me."

"_How?" _Elena exclaimed. "How are we going to deal with this?"

"Just let me take you home. We'll figure it out there."

"No, it's not safe there. It's not safe anywhere. This city… it's his."

"Elena." Her name still rolled off his tongue and it was still one of her favorite sounds. "You're safe with me."

She was. The safest place she could be was with him, even if he had hurt her; that didn't seem to matter anymore. It hadn't mattered from the moment she came back. They had both made mistakes, but she wanted them to move on from that. She had accepted it, why couldn't he? Why couldn't he forgive her? She wanted to be with him, right now, she wanted him for the rest of her life, and the certainty that it wasn't going to change, not today, not tomorrow, not in a years' time, was set within.

"What about Katherine?" she asked, the underlying meaning of the question begging to be recognized by Damon. It was the ultimate question that haunted her with severity, she wanted him to tell her Katherine didn't matter, that she meant nothing, but he had already told her that. Did she need it over and over again? Is that what she expected for the rest of their lives, if they spent it together; a constant reassurance of his love for her, and for her only, or could she accept that he loved her for her, and not because she looked like Katherine, but because she was herself, and nobody else. She wasn't Katherine. She was Elena Gilbert; warm, flawed and had a dark past. Maybe that was enough for him. Maybe she was enough.

"We got everything we needed from Katherine." Damon answered. That was the only answer required from him, and finally she gave a nod, earning his hand to take hold of hers and using it to pull her towards the exit of Lloyd's with soft guidance.

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><p>"Why didn't you tell me Frank was looking for me?" Elena broke the silence that had lasted the entire journey to Damon's apartment, in which she had wondered why he was taking her here when his suggestion had been that he would take her to the apartment she currently shared with Caroline, an apartment he had wrongly labeled 'home' because now that she wandered aimlessly across his apartment, taking in the surroundings, she knew this was her home. He was her home.<p>

"Honestly?" She watched as he picked up each haphazardly discarded piece of clothing from the floor, the furniture and his bed, finding it sweet that he was cleaning up just for her benefit. She had seen it much more of a worse state than this. "I was hoping he was bluffing. Or that he wouldn't hear of you being back."

"He always hears." She told him, almost amused, which made a change from the sheer panic she had experienced twenty minutes ago.

"Yeah," He agreed in a breathy tone, tossing the collection of clothes into the closet and turning back to face her. Before everything had happened between them, she would've found this situation dangerous, them being alone, in his apartment. But now, she welcomed it. She was willingly wading through dangerous waters, and she found herself hoping he would lean in too close, or tempt her with a kiss, because that's what she wanted. And then it hit her. What if it was her turn, her time to do the chasing, the tempting? The tables had turned, and she was suddenly, and surprisingly more than willing to accept her role in it.


	23. Chapter 23

**AN: **OHHHH here it is! I just had to finish this chapter today, even though I am completely shattered from lack of sleep last night! Anyway I hope you enjoy, the reviews and the favouriting and the alerts make me so happy and I can't thank you enough for the support and for of course, sticking with the story, or even reading it because its not what i expected at all, so thank youuuu! ENJOY AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK ETC ETC xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>23<strong>

"_It's too late to cry, too broken to move on. And still I can't let you be, most nights I hardly sleep, don't take what you don't need from me." – __**Ron Pope.**_

They had a lot of things to deal with, to be worried about, but somehow that didn't seem to be Elena's number one priority right now. She had been terrified at the thought of this new 'Elijah' being a pawn in Frank's plan at getting back at her for leaving him at the altar, but when they got back to his apartment, something seemed to change. Damon had been all set on giving her the coldest treatment she would ever have to endure, but then she had to get all vulnerable and scared, forcing him to ride in on his horse and save her. Now, he was completely off balance. She was here, in his apartment. It had the potential to be very dangerous, there was no distractions, no third party to prevent something happening, it was just them, and a part of him relished in it. In her being here, of the potential of what could happen, while another part dreaded it. Would she leave again? Would she hurt him?

She was his weakness, the only thing that scared him, and he hated the power she had over him. But at the same time… he felt as if he needed it. Everything had been too easy, too simple before her. Only when she came along did he realize how incomplete his life had been. Not even the intensity he felt with Katherine could compare to what he felt with Elena. It was indescribable, yet it held a magnificent simplicity. She made him feel at peace, and at other times; made him crazy.

"Did you find out what Katherine's planning?" Elena queried from her slow wander of the apartment, disallowing Damon the resistance to watch the slow movements of her perfect body, the calm of her face and slight swish of her chocolate curls.

"No." Damon sighed, and she turned around to look at him. "From what I could tell, she's not lying about what she told us. But she's not being completely honest. She's hiding something."

"Hiding the unfinished business she has with Frank." She kept her gaze on him; the awareness of her trace of his movements towards the drink cabinet was enough to increase his drastic need for alcohol to take the edge off. "But how would they even have unfinished business? How do they know each other?"

"Well," Damon opened the bottle of bourbon and poured a generous amount into one of the glass tumblers, then turned to make a silent offer to Elena, who quickly declined. "What do you know about Frank's past?"

"Nothing," Elena replied. "The first time we met was the first time he requested me."

"And you'd never seen him before that?"

"No, never. I'd never even heard of him, not by any of the other girls, and they knew all the successful clients."

"So, maybe he came back to town for something… or _someone_." Damon lifted his eyes from their inspection of the drink in his hand to look directly at her.

"What do you mean?"

"What if he was looking for you, specifically?"

"No-one knew I was there or even who I was, I was a complete stranger."

"The man who took you there did." He highlighted.

Her brow creased. "Derek?"

"Mm-hmm." He took a sip of his drink but kept his gaze locked on her, watching as her head shook from side to side in a soft motion and her features appeared unconvinced by his theory. A theory he had been mulling over in his head for a while. It was obvious there was a past connection shared between Frank and Katherine, and it was much too convenient that someone like Elena, someone who looked a lot like Katherine, just fell into Frank's lap in his hometown. A hometown, he possibly hadn't made a visit to until Elena was there. Damon had learnt over the past few months, Frank got any woman he desired, contrary to his age, and slight unattractive appearance, and it was more than likely that was the case five years ago, so why would he turn up at a brothel? Surely he didn't need to pay for sex. He didn't now, undoubtedly he didn't then. He was rich enough to be instantly attractive.

"No, there's no way."

Damon scoffed, his features squeezing together in the process. "Why? Because he's such an upstanding citizen?" he commented sarcastically.

"_No_, because it's not possible, he never forced me to leave home. That was my decision."

"But he did have the ability to break you down, make you desperate enough to want to leave home, and he just so conveniently had a way for you to do exactly that."

"What are you saying? That he planned everything? That he told my mother about us?"

"Maybe he didn't tell her himself, but planned it out perfectly so she would catch you."

"This is ridiculous."

"No, it's not." Damon told her simply. "Just think about it. Did he ever purposely put you both in the line of fire? Kiss you when your mother was just in the other room or steal a touch of you when she was in the same room?"

He watched as she thought it over. "That doesn't necessarily mean he was trying to get us caught."

"Elena," he tried. "He lied to add you to his collection of prostitutes, promised you care, love, and instead he sold you to countless men. Why don't you want to believe he planned it?"

"Because," she exclaimed with a distressed run of her hands through her hair. "It makes it that much worse."

"Why?"

"I should've known. If he was planning it, purposely manipulating me; why didn't I realize?"

"You're seriously blaming yourself for this?" Damon approached her, the wariness of stepping within a close proximity suddenly void. He didn't care if his guard should be up, she needed his help right now, and that's exactly what he would give her.

"It is my fault." Elena replied in a small voice. "It's always been my fault."

"No it's not." He said strongly. "You were sixteen years old, your dad died. You needed comfort, you were vulnerable. He took advantage of that." He meant what he said, no matter how angry or betrayed he felt, he wouldn't let her torture herself over something that wasn't her fault.

"I should've been stronger." She insisted, her expression broken. "I _should _be stronger, I have to be."

"You are strong." His hands took hold of her face, the tresses of her hair tickling the skin, while the heat of their gaze threatened to set him ablaze. A warning was going off in his mind, but he couldn't seem to pull away. It was intense, and addicting, just like it always had been between them. "You're the strongest person I know."

Her head shook earnestly between his palms. "No, no. I let everyone down. My dad, you." It pained Damon to see the twist of guilt on her face, and the way it moved into him as he realized the possibility of this being his fault. He had wanted her to hurt; he needed her to hurt like he did, and now she was. But this wasn't what she deserved, she had been hurt enough over an entire lifetime, it wasn't fair to force more on her just because he disagreed with her decision to leave. "I'm weak; I've never been anything else."

He provided a show of his disagreement through a shake of his head.

"I am. I've been running my whole life because I was scared." she argued.

"You're not running now."

"Not yet." A single tear escaped and ran the length of her face as the two words destroyed any hope he had of her staying, his palms falling from their rightful place on either side of her face and his eyes breaking contact from the pair that had just pulled another piece of him apart. He picked up the glass of hardly consumed bourbon and drank it down until there was nothing left. "I don't want to hurt you. I just don't know how to not be afraid."

"You want to know how to be strong?" he exclaimed in annoyance. "You stay. You don't run. You face what you're afraid of; you don't turn in the other direction and run scared, because it does nothing. Your problems will still be there, so will your fear."

"I don't know how to be strong."

"Well, running away isn't going to give you the answer." He deadpanned, and turned to grab the bottle of bourbon and pour himself another drink.

"I don't want to." She said while wiping the liquid from her face.

"Then don't." he replied simply.

"What if it's not that simple?"

"It can be."

"Does that include everything else?" Elena queried in a purr, and he turned to meet her darkened gaze, a case of nerves overcoming him as he realized what she was going to attempt; was she really going to break him down with seduction? He watched, and swallowed hard as she moved towards him. Yes. Yes, she definitely was. "So, if I tell you that I'm sorry for leaving, that it's been added to my very long list of mistakes, and I tell you that I'm not giving up on us, not now, not ever," the genuine ties of her voice as she provided him with the promise of never giving up, somehow made it physically impossible for him to turn away from her body when it came to a direct stop in front of him and both hands reached up to take each side of his neck in an intimate hold. The only thing he could do was match the intense gaze, but willed his arms to remain at his side though they itched to take placement on her. The smell of her skin, her perfume, her hair, enveloped him in a blanket of sweetness that he never wanted to crawl out of. She leant up ever so slightly.

"Elena-

"Shh," she cut him off with a finger to his lips and the alluring scent of her breath masked his face. "I'm sorry." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the words screamed at him. "I'm not giving up," she inched closer. "Not now, not ever."

They just stared. And the moment was so intense he felt he would suffocate in it. He was in a fever, burning up under her gaze, and he had no way of getting a release, but apparently he didn't need one, because the next sensation that ran through him was a cold tingle. It was electric, it was fire, it was ice, it was time stilled in motion just for this moment. It was everything and more. It was past, present and future rolled into this one moment, it was them; pure and simple, without the worries and problems, and against his better judgment; he didn't want it to end.

They shared an equal desperation for the next moment, the one that would allow them a reminder of what they hadn't experience for months. But for once, Damon couldn't initiate it. He needed her to. Therefore when she edged even closer to allow their lips to make the softest contact, he relished in it, and was soon interrupted from any further escalation by the ringing of his phone in his jeans pocket. A curse flew from under his breath and he dug out his cell phone, discovering it was Katherine. It surprised him that he kept her number after all this time, but he knew you should never throw out anything that may become valuable one day, and obviously this was that day.

He answered and held the phone to his ear. "What is it?"

"_You bailed on me."_

"You wouldn't tell me what you were up to; therefore I have no more use for you."

"_Well, maybe if you offered me something in return, I'd be more than happy to share that information with you."_

He cringed inwardly at the suggestive tone in her voice, and wondered how two women who looked so much alike could make him feel the exact opposite. It only proved his feelings for Elena were in no way connected to his past with Katherine, contrary to popular belief.

"I'm going to have to pass." He retorted.

"_Because of Elena." _the truth in the accusation made Damon turn to eye Elena, who in return was watching him carefully. He carefully spun back around on the heel of his boot and took a large sip of his drink.

"Because you make my skin crawl." He discarded of the words like they were poison in his mouth, and willed his imagination on the discussion at hand, not what would've happened if his phone hadn't rung.

"_Judging by your choice in women, I'd say otherwise."_

He scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

"_Wouldn't dream of it."_

"Is there something you actually needed? Or did you just call to get on my nerves?"

"_Bit of both,"_ Damon rolled his eyes and one-handedly poured yet another glass of bourbon, deciding he would need it to endure a few more minutes of this conversation. _"You left before I was finished."_

"You wanted us to wait to be dismissed?" he mocked.

"_I need something from Elena."_ She stated, obviously ignoring his comment.

"Blood?"

"_Her necklace," _Katherine corrected, triggering a crease in Damon's forehead, and a whirl of his figure to inspect what he already knew was true; no necklace hanging around Elena's neck, nor had one ever from what he could recall.

"She doesn't wear a necklace."

"_Just get the necklace; she'll know what I'm talking about."_

And with that, his line of connection with Katherine went dead.

He lowered the phone down to rest on the small circular mahogany table next to the gold lamp and a sigh readied him to begin another conversation with Elena after what had just _almost _happened between them. Something that wasn't supposed to be happening at all, not yet anyway, since only minutes ago had he realized it was time to stop blaming her for his pain. They needed to sort things out, talk about their issues, figure out where they go from here, if they're going anywhere. Not jump straight into bed with one another.

"She wants your necklace, said you'd know what she meant."

"What necklace-

Elena cut herself off before finishing the question, a wave of understanding bewitching her features. Obviously she _did_ know exactly what Katherine meant, Damon assumed to himself. He watched her hand range upwards to touch the bare skin above the valley of her breasts, her fingers lingering there for a few long moments, forcing his imagination wild, before she spoke again.

"What does she want with it?"

"First of all, what necklace are we talking about? I've barely ever seen you wear jewelry, never mind a necklace Katherine would be interested in."

"It's the necklace Frank gave to me." Elena revealed.

"What would she want with that?"

"Well, it's worth a lot of money." She offered with a troubled expression that apparently was contagious, furthermore leading Damon to question why Katherine would be interested in that specific necklace when she told him she wasn't in connection with Frank for money. If she didn't want the necklace for money, then what did she want it for?

"I don't think that's why she wants it." He replied, deciding on a whim to go with his gut instinct.

"Why? Because she's such an upstanding citizen?"

Even if he wanted to, he couldn't have prevented the smirk his mouth tugged into as he registered her clever echo of his own words spoken to her in their earlier conversation.

"No, because I get the feeling it's about the necklace itself, not how much money its worth." He explained. "Does it have certain significance to Frank?"

She let out a sigh and finally relieved herself by taking a seat on his sofa. "I don't know, he told me it's called 'the heart of the ocean', gave it to me after the first time he'd…"

"First time he'd what?" he asked, with the knowing that the truth would be something he wouldn't like, so when she murmured a small 'It doesn't matter, we have more important things to deal with', a part of him was relieved, because deep down, he already knew the necklace had gone to her in the form of a bribe from Frank in a desperate attempt to keep Elena sweet because he'd obviously crossed the line. It was things like this that made Damon wonder whether Frank did actually care about Elena. The gestures said he did, but the abusive treatment, said the exact opposite. Eventually, he decided it didn't matter how much analyzing he did, he would never understand a man like Frank.

"What we have to figure out is why Katherine would want it." Elena pointed out, effectively pushing the subject aside.

"Somehow, I doubt she's going to tell us." Damon added after a few minutes of contemplation.

"So what do we do? Just give it to her?"

"No, not an option." He dismissed without pause. If what Katherine wanted was the necklace in her possession, then that was the last thing she was getting.

"Then what are we going to do?" she pressed with slight desperation in both her expression and voice.

"We're going to do what she told us, and keep you out of Frank's way."

"You said I should face what I'm afraid of." she reminded him.

"I didn't mean Frank." Damon emphasized.

"No," she said with both simplicity and strength. "I'm not running scared."

"This isn't running scared, _this_ is being sensible."

"I beg to differ."

An exasperated breath was forced from his mouth and his body turned to allow his hand to shoot out and grab the bottle of bourbon. It seemed it had become as natural to relief stress with alcohol as it was to breathe now. Only when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye did he turn to watch her approach him, his senses suddenly more than aware of the closeness when she reached across him to grab the spare glass tumbler, their bodies brushing and their scents mingling. It was the simplest of collisions, yet it felt like an explosion. How did she do that?

He swallowed hard, and willed his hand not to reach out for her, instead, kept a much too firm grip on the neck of the bottle and poured an equal amount into the tumbler she held out for him to his own.

"I'm tired of being scared. I'm tired of hiding." She took a sip of bourbon, and a look of disgust erupted along the features of her face. He wanted to laugh, he really did, but he needed her to take him seriously with the next thing that was going to come out of his mouth.

"You're staying here, and that's final."

Elena chuckled. "You're holding me prisoner?"

"If that's what I have to do, yes." he answered indifferently.

"You can't do that."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Damon,"

"Elena." He gave a soft chuckle when she frowned and petulantly folded her arms across her chest. "An hour ago you were practically having a panic attack at the idea of Frank having someone tail you."

"I was… shocked." She tried.

"No, you were terrified. There's a difference."

"You can't keep me here."

"Again, is that a challenge?"

"I'll scream."

"I should hope so." The suggestion in his voice made them both fall into a silence of awkward tension and sexual frustration, and they both had no choice but to swallow down the entirety of their drinks. A laugh that betrayed Elena's shaken nerves rung through the silence of the apartment and her hand extended once again with the glass still in its grip, requesting a refill. Damon naturally obliged, and did the same with his own. "Look, as far as we know, Frank has no clue about you being back here in the city, so as long as you stay here, you'll be safe."

"And what if he does? What if he's had someone watching my every move since I came back?"

"Either way, you're staying here." he told her. "Whatever we decide to do, we're going to need that necklace." He added after a few moments.

Elena nodded in agreement with him, taking a sip of her drink. "It's at Caroline's."

"Okay then." He put down his still intact drink, grabbed his black leather jacket, shrugged into it and walked towards the door of his apartment, turning around when his steps reached a foot from it. "So, you stay here."

"And what am I supposed to do while you're off snooping through my things?"

"Tidy up the place, make yourself useful." He suggested with a smirk and a shrug, his sarcastic attitude earning him a thrown pillow aimed directly at his head, to which he ducked away from and skirted out the door, only leaving the echo of his laughter behind.

* * *

><p>"Damon?" Elena called out through the silence, her soft and cautious footsteps leading her to assess the front door that had seconds ago opened and closed. She didn't know what she expected to find, a serial killer maybe? But either way, she had to be on guard for any surprises. The perfectly intact door finally came into view, but there was nobody there. She relaxed and wondered if it had been her imagination playing tricks, but was soon corrected when she was forced against the wall as if she were nothing more than a feather. Her back hit the wall and a pain shot down its length but her mind was focused on the tight grip a large hand had around her slender neck.<p>

"Hello, Elena."

The dangerous glimmer in his tawny colored eyes and the threatening grip on her air supply told her to be scared, and she was. But with the exception of the fear wasn't as close to as paralyzing as she thought it would be the moment he caught up with her and acted out whatever he had planned for her leaving him at the altar, and for revealing the ugly truth to everyone in the church, it was much, much more than that. And the question she asked herself was; why? Why did she suddenly care what Frank did to her? Before she left him, she could care less, but now, she was overwhelmed with caring, with worry, with fear.

"What do you want?" She managed in a strong voice.

"Payback." Frank answered with a smile of malice.

"Because I left?" her voice weakened. "Why do you even care? You have Katherine now."

He forced out a hard laugh, obviously ignoring the subject of Katherine, furthering the theory that he most definitely had something to hide when it came to Katherine. "Did you really think I'd let you get away with making a fool out of me?"

"That's what this is about; your wounded pride?"

He released her from the tight hold then reapplied it with an increased force, purposely knocking the back of her head against the hard wall, releasing a gasp from her mouth. "This is about teaching you a lesson." Frank told her darkly.

"So what are you going to do, Frank? Kill me?" the fear brimming at the surface didn't run over and lace its way into her voice, much to Elena's relief. The last thing she wanted was him to know how scared she actually was. She swallowed hard, which was difficult with such a vice restricting it, and balled her fists. "You can't do it and you know it."

"Are you sure about that?" his lips lifted into a smirk and his fingers tightened around her neck, an eruption of panic, along with the sudden desperate need for air caused her mouth to part and her fingernails to reach up and dig into the skin of Frank's arms. "I'm not the little girl with nothing anymore, I have people," she marked the wince of pain he provided in response to the fierce dig of her nails but couldn't relish in it until his hand was from her neck. "People who care about me, and that's something you'll never have."

She was pushing him, and it was probably a bad idea since he was the one in control right now, but she couldn't seem to help herself. "You want to know why that is? Because you're a bully, you don't give anyone the chance to care about you, you force them into pretending they do instead."

His free hand took hold of a clump of her hair at the roots, and she hissed in pain. She was making his angry, that meant she was hitting him where it hurt, uncovering his weakness.

"You think they care about you; your little blonde friend, and your knight in shining armor?" he spat, yanking harder and forcing her head on a slant while his other hand remained secured on her neck, tight enough to hurt, but loose enough that it didn't cut off her breathing. "I've got news for you; he only wants you for the same reason I did; you look like her."

"No." Elena shook her head weakly in refusal to believe everything that had happened to her was only because she resembled Katherine. She had been trapped, abused, for five years of her life because of her physical appearance. How was that fair? Another question she needed answered was, of course, if Damon was right, had everything been manipulated to have her fall into Frank's lap? Had Derek come to her home, made her mother fall in love with him, and in addition made Elena think she was in love with him also, just so he could persuade her to leave with him, where some time later, Frank would come to collect her?

Frank chuckled with condescendence. "Is that what he told you?"

A tear threatened to spill from her eye. The tables had turned and now he was prodding with insistence at her weak spot. "He doesn't care about that." She said, but couldn't completely believe it herself.

Another hard laugh echoed against the wall. "He's good, I'll give him that."

Elena shook her head once more, as much as she could manage with both strong grips of Frank's large hands forcing her to remain in place. She closed her eyes for a brief moment then uttered the name of the man who began the downward spiral of her life. "Derek,"

Frank smiled, and she had her answer, but still the question escaped her lips. "Did you send him after me?"

"Now you're getting it." Frank boasted with a deviating excitement while taking a small step back from his loom over Elena. His hand unclasped from the iron grip on the roots of her hair, and let it drop at his side while the other remained on her neck.

"Why?" emotion finally spilled into her voice once she straightened up.

"You already know the answer to that."

"Because I look like Katherine." The statement in her own voice tore through her, the realization that everything, the majority of her life, the unfortunate path that had been set out for her, was all because she looked like a woman she barely knew, was like a lorry to the back of the dormant vehicle she currently sat in, throwing her through the windshield and forcing her into reality. Short of breath and holding no ability to speak, or even hold a wall of strength anymore, Elena let out the frightened sob her mind had ordered that her chest hold from the moment Frank took her by the throat.

"Yes, because you look like Katherine." He confirmed with a smile that told Elena he was more than happy with the results he had had on her emotions. Calculatingly slow, he removed his expert grip from her neck and she sucked in a breath of relief before deciding this wasn't how Frank Miller 'dealt' with people. This was just a warning, the planting of fear for his own pleasure, before he got to the big finale.

She eyed him curiously when he did the exact opposite and took a step back, straightened his long black coat by the lapels and ran a quick hand through his almost grey hair, causing a crease in her brow as she remained tight to the wall. Like always, it didn't go unnoticed.

Frank drew closer once more, his smirk intact. "Don't worry, this is just the beginning for us." It was only a whisper, but it held the threat of a knife to her throat. He came here to taunt her, to remind her he was a threat before he made his move and actually 'dealt' with her. "I warned you what would happen if you ever left, if you ever made a fool out of me."

A reminder of the first time she stepped foot in the apartment she had viewed as a prison for five years made her wince ever so slightly. The moment he had her caught by the ankle in that planted bear trap of an apartment and the door was shut, she saw him change. He became her prison warden, not a lover, not a future husband, not a comforting sense of security; he was not the man he had promised her he was. He didn't care about her, he didn't want to love her; he wanted to own her, and until now, she hadn't known why.

But what was Frank's reason for coveting her for the reason she looked like Katherine? Was he in love with Katherine? Or had he been once upon a time? There were so many possible reasons for his retrieval of her, for the treatment he had given her, but Elena knew he wasn't going to give her it; neither purposely, nor willingly.

"If you thought the last five years were torture, you're about to have a _rude_ awakening." His chuckle came out deadly and it pierced the growing bubble of fear, but she held herself together, her fists balled tensely at her sides and her teeth latched onto the inside of her cheek, promising herself she wouldn't allow it to spill until he was gone.

"I'll see you soon." Frank told her, and with a menacing smile, he glided from the apartment, forcing the apartment door to slam in his wake.


	24. Chapter 24

**AN: **HIIIIIIII. I love every single person who takes the time to read this, it means so much to me, you dont even realise! And of course, every one of you wonderful people who review! As you can probably guess, theres only a few more chapters left to go, and its going to go out with a bang ;D. And of course, HOW AMAZING WAS THE CANADIAN PROMO?

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think, and I love to hear your theories on whats about to happen, and what Elena's up to ;D

AU REVIOUR xxxxxxxx

* * *

><p><strong>24<strong>

"_You see, you're a better person than I am. And it made me a better person to be around you. I don't know, maybe it was just all a dream. Maybe I went to bed one lonely night in December and I imagined it all. But I swear, nothing has ever felt more real. And if you get on that plane right now, it'll disappear forever. I know we could both go on with our lives and we'd both be fine, but I've seen what we could be like together. And I choose us." – _**The Family Man.**

By the soreness of her eyes, the panicked heave of her chest and the empty feeling in her head, she could only assume she'd been crying for a long time, a whole eternity even, but was corrected in her prediction when she turned to look at the clock hanging on Damon's apartment wall. It had only been twenty minutes; twenty minutes since Frank left, twenty minutes since she slid down the wall into a heap on the floor and remained there to this very moment, twenty minutes later than when Damon should've returned. And that sent a whole new wave of panic through her. When had this happened? When had she gotten so afraid? Four out of the five years she spent with Frank she had barely cared what happened to her, now she was terrified and a complete mess over the possibilities of what Frank would do to 'deal' with her. Was his plan to rid of her completely? Or would he torture her with the great loss of someone she loved?

With that in mind, a desperate need for Damon to walk through the door overwhelmed her and she managed to push herself up from the floor. Wiping the spilled tears and makeup from her cheeks, Elena groaned at the thought of what she possibly looked like right now. Undoubtedly, she looked as bad as she felt. With weak and groggy limbs she drew towards the door, caution as to whether it was a good idea for her to be attempting to leave coursing through her system, but the worry of Damon's safety overrode it. It was as if she had known all along the potential evil in Frank, but only now had she witnessed it firsthand. The slaps, the punches to the face, had only been a flicker of how truly wicked he was, therefore she needed to find Damon, and check up on Caroline in the process. They were the only two people on the planet she loved, or more accurately; the only people she loved, and she wasn't about to let something happen to them because of her. But how would she keep them safe? She needed a plan, one that would free all of them of Frank, because even the people in connection with her were in danger, she knew that. She knew there was a possibility Frank would try to pay her back for what she did by hurting the people she loved, therefore she needed help. The realization of who she needed rushed at her full force and led rushed footsteps towards the small circular table where she'd earlier watched Damon place his cell phone. She retrieved it with shaky fingers and thumbed through until finding what she was looking for, pushing her hair from her face before pressing the call button and holding the phone to her ear.

"_Hello?"_

"I need your help."

* * *

><p>She ended the call and set the phone back down, uncertainty as to whether she'd just done the right thing eating away at her conscience. But she had no other option. Bringing a hand up to inspect the damaged skin of her neck, Elena triggered a wince of pain and decided it was probably best she didn't prod at it, at least for a few days. She turned on her heel with any longer pause and headed for the door, pulling it open with little strength she had, that could only have come from the spread of exhaustion from her emotions to her body; she slipped from the apartment with a quick manoeuvre of her hair to cover the possible developing bruises on her neck. She knew they would come, but she didn't know if that time was now.<p>

She practically flew out the front door of the building and onto the street, a part of her disappointed that Damon didn't conveniently own two cars, not that she would've had the keys on her anyway. Running on instinct and determination, she weaved her way around every other person on the sidewalk and had no care of the wind blowing her hair from its mask of her neck. She didn't know why she had cared in the first place, a warning seemed to have gone off in her head to hide it; the same one that had gone off every other time Frank left his mark on her. Except this time, she didn't have to hide. She no longer had the obligation to hide anything Frank did to her because he didn't own her, not anymore, and she wouldn't have to make excuses as to why she stayed with him because everyone in the city knew exactly what they had been to one another; nothing. An agreement, a settlement, a tolerance, an unfortunate partnership. How could he be so brutal with her for leaving? Because in his mind, he owned her, and she owed him for the life he'd given her? A life he thought was a better one than she would've had if he hadn't come along. But why should she have either? Why couldn't she have a life of happiness, a life with people who cared about her, who loved her, whom she loved in return, didn't she deserve that after all this time?

By the time she had finished with her thoughts she was crossing through the doorjamb into Caroline's apartment building, ascending the stairs and lifting her knuckles to rap against the door as soon as it came into contact. Approaching footsteps sounded and Elena immediately relaxed. Caroline pulled open the door, her hair as bright as the sunshine and her eyes as blue as the sky.

"There you are!" Caroline wrapped both arms around Elena for a brief moment before pulling away and standing aside to allow her inside. "Damon's just getting some of your stuff." She informed while closing the door and Elena relaxed completely.

"Oh, good." She watched as Caroline's gaze drifted to her neck, triggering the reminder of what currently resided there and her hand shot up to cover it. "It's okay, don't freak out." deciding there was no point in hiding it, her hands went into a surrender and she took small steps towards her wide-eyed best friend.

"Don't freak out?" Caroline exclaimed, the pitch of her voice marginally high. "You don't even have a neck right now, Elena. _It's a bruise_, not a neck!"

"I know it looks bad." Elena tried.

"Bad? No, bad is a scratch, or a few bruises, that, Elena," Caroline pointed a finger, "Is brutal."

"It's just bruises; they'll be gone in a few days." Elena assured, taking a moment to turn and assess them in a mirror for the first time. Caroline was right; they weren't just bad; they were much more than that. But contrary to her agreement with Caroline, she kept a brave face. "It's really not that bad."

"There shouldn't _be _any bruises at all, Elena." Caroline stressed.

"I know that-

"What's going on?" Damon's voice caught both their attention and they simultaneously whirled around the watch him approach their heated discussion. Elena forced her hair to conceal the bruises though Damon was undoubtedly going to find out about them in a few seconds and looked away from him. "Didn't take you long to escape, huh?"

Elena forced a small smile and let their eyes meet for only a brief second before averting hers once again.

"Did you know about this?" Caroline turned to Damon.

"Did I know about what?" Damon returned with a frown.

"He doesn't know." Elena cut in, the wariness and dread of Damon's reaction seeping into her voice while her eyes still refused to meet his. "It only happened an hour ago."

"Will one of you tell me what you're talking about?" Damon exclaimed.

"This;" Caroline pushed aside Elena's mass of curls, revealing the large collection of bruises along each side of her neck.

Damon took one look at her neck and his eyes seemed glued there. Hurt, anger, shock, all each taking turns to flash along the blue of his eyes, and all Elena could do was watch him, unaware of what was coming next, and only when she readjusted her hair to curtain the marked skin was he coaxed from the daze and a mutter was triggered to fly past his lips. "Son of a bitch."

It didn't take a genius to guess who had done this to her, and she certainly hadn't expected any queries as to who it was; especially not from Damon anyway. He stalked towards the front door, and Elena was almost surprised to find how quick she reflexively rushed after him. She took hold of his upper-arm, finding it hard not to relish in the feel of the impressive muscles there, but somehow she managed not to, and instead turned him around to look at her.

"Throwing punches isn't going to fix anything." Elena told him.

"You asked me before not to do anything about him, and I didn't." he said in a dark voice.

"And I'm asking you again." She pled.

His jaw clenched and his eyes closed. The erratic up and down movements of his chest slowed completely as he got a hold on his emotions with deep breaths before eventually opening his eyes to bore down at her.

"We don't have time for this, Damon."

"We wouldn't have any time at all if he had his way!" Damon seethed, and even in the current situation, her heart warmed at his concern for her.

"He had a chance to kill me, and he didn't."

His expression faltered into a wince as if the words physically pricked at him, then with rapid transformation returned to normal. "So what, I'm supposed to congratulate you on not being dead right now?"

"No! You're supposed to think about this rationally!" She cried out, and then took a moment to compose herself before beginning again. "We have to be smart about this." she turned to address Caroline's include in her comment. "He's holding all the cards; he's _always _been holding all the cards. We don't stand a chance against him, not like this, so you running off to get back at him for doing this to me isn't the best thing to do right now."

Elena looked between the two of them, realizing that without any intention, the three of them had become united against Frank, and it was all for her.

"You expect me to do nothing?" Damon claimed with indignation.

"That's exactly what I expect you to do." she confirmed and he blew out a breath of utter annoyance, allowing her the confirmation and satisfaction that she'd won this time. He rounded Elena and a few minutes went by until he spoke again.

"So what do we do? Just wait until he decides it time for you to pay?" Damon scoffed.

"No." Elena returned. "We get prepared, we get smart."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Caroline, who had been silent up until now, queried, catching the focus of the other two.

"Well," Elena began. "There's something I need you to do for me."

* * *

><p>Damon paced the length of the apartment, stopping every few seconds to check any movement of the closed door which Elena and Caroline had disappeared behind a half an hour ago. What could they possibly be doing in there? The last he'd witnessed was Elena telling Caroline there was something she needed her to do, followed by the sudden unnecessary need for privacy in Caroline's bathroom. He huffed impatiently for what was possibly the fifteenth time when his gaze discovered the remained tightly shut door and his eyes detected no input on what they were doing behind it. If he was smart, he could slip out and pay Frank a visit, but his common sense told him he'd have hell to pay with Elena if he did. The vivid image of her neck still ran through his mind, creating an intense crease in his forehead that even he wasn't aware of. He walked the width of the apartment one more time before the door clicked open, and out walked both women, the same type of sorrow plastered on both their features. Elena approached him while Caroline hung back. He looked between them with raised eyebrows of expectancy for them to reveal what had happened behind the closed door. Or more importantly what favour Elena wanted from Caroline, and when Elena opened her mouth to speak he thought that's exactly what he was getting. But instead, she said; "Did you get the necklace?"<p>

Damon frowned down at her, and then eventually dug into his pocket where he had earlier shoved the necklace once he picked up on the familiar sound of Elena's voice in the apartment. He held it up in front of Elena's face and watched as she seemed to become transfixed by that large heart-shaped pendant as it swayed from side to side for a few seconds. That he understood, because his own eyes had done exactly that when he found it amongst her stuff. It was truly amazing. And he vaguely recognized it from the wedding day, which seemed physically impossible with something as beautiful as this, but somehow he had failed to really look at it then. But now, it was almost hard to look away.

She held out her hand with the palm facing upwards and he let the necklace drop into it, effectively avoiding a collision of their skin. Because he had to admit; every time she touched him, even if it was the most innocent he could ever experience, it awakened the primal and feral force that had a desperate need for her, and that was something he needed to keep buried.

He watched her fist tightened around it while her free hand lifted to give a small wave to Caroline before whirling around and heading in the direction of the apartments exit. That was it? They were done here? His confused gaze found Caroline, the sadness in her face still evident, then it trailed Elena as she left, forcing him to do the same. He followed her lead across the landing, down the stairs and out the front of the building, and the moment he caught up to her, brought her to a stop in front of him.

"What did you need her to do for you?" he queried with confidence she was hiding something from him. She scanned along the street, and then looked back to him for a gesture as to where his car was parked. He provided it and she pulled her arm from his grasp and set off once again. "Does it matter?" she asked once he fell into step beside her.

"No, not really," He said after a few moments. "But if you're planning something, I want to know about it."

"I'm not going to let him scare me. Not like that." She insisted with vigour just as they came into close contact with his car. "You said it yourself; he only has power if I let him, right?"

"Elena, what's happening?"

"I just..." she began whilst he unlocked the car door and slipped inside, watched as she did the same, and only when their doors were shut did she continue. "I let him get to me."

"What do you mean?" he pressed, not planning on starting the car until she told him everything.

"I let him scare me." She revealed with her eyes set on her hands as they lay in her lap. Damon nodded in understanding and shifted in the seat to face her completely, providing her with his full attention. "Before, when he would hit me, I never got scared. I never cried, I felt like I couldn't." She paused. "But today... I was terrified."

"Of course you were. Anyone would be."

"No, I'm not supposed to be. Not of him." Her head shook violently and Damon could've sworn he saw a tear escape. "He shouldn't have any power over me anymore. I'm supposed to be free now."

He wondered whether he should reach out and console her with the thought in mind that it could lead to no good. She was vulnerable, and every time they came into close contact everything seemed to multiply in intensity by a thousand. It was dangerous territory, because even after not seeing her for two whole months, she was still under his skin, she was still everything. And if he even got in too deep again, he wouldn't be able to get back out. He wouldn't survive. Was that what he wanted? Could he let that happen? Then, as she lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet with his, he decided he didn't care. He scooted across the seat and wound an arm around her shoulders.

"Everything's going to be okay." He put his chin to a rest on the top of her head, his eyes on the outside of the car, reminding himself that there was still something she was hiding from him, but decided this wasn't the time to pry it from her.

"Yeah, it will be." She murmured softly, and he knew it was a promise of some kind. What was she up to?

A car ride and an entry into his apartment later, he was still wondering the same thing. He knew she was up to something, but what? She had said that 'it only happened an hour ago' therefore she couldn't have hatched up some master plan in such a small amount of time. She was feeling desperate, he understood that. He realized that she had an obsession and a need to be control, to not be afraid, or weak, or undermined. Of course she did, because all she had ever been was the exact opposite of all of those things. She'd never been in control of her future, of her actions, she'd been manipulated by everyone she trusted, and now she couldn't stand the idea of that happening again. So much so that she was planning something without him involved. Why wouldn't she involve him? He was great at team-work, and not to mention, incredibly stealthy. She had not long ago trusted him with everything, had that changed because they weren't together anymore? Maybe it was different now, maybe it had to be. But if she was going up against Frank, then he'd be there, right in the middle of it all, because no matter what had happened between them, he would still do anything for her, and that included protecting her from Frank.

He watched from the sofa, transfixed like always, as she gathered her hair over one shoulder, putting the bruises along her neck on show to catch in her reflection cast in the mirror hanging on his wall. He got up and approached her from behind, both their stares locked on her neck. But while hers was probably busy inspecting the bruises, his own imagination was running wild at the sight of her beautiful neck. He knew exactly which part to touch to turn her on, which part was ticklish, and how she seemed to taste sweeter there than anywhere else on her body. She suddenly caught sight of him and their eyes locked in the shared reflection.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yes." She answered almost breathlessly, allowing him to make the assumption she'd been holding her breath for a few moments.

"Do you want anything? Ice?" he wondered out loud.

"No," she replied softly. "I don't think it's swollen."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," she replied, yet the waver in her certainty was obvious so he placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to turn around and face him. "Here," she took his hand and placed it on the side of her neck. "Do you think it is?"

Damon shook his head, lost in such a simple touch, relishing in it before forcing his hand to drop and moving to a much safer distance from her, which to him was of course, the drinks cabinet.

"So, are you ever going to tell me what you're up to?" he queried casually, pulling the top off a bottle and filling one of the glasses. He put the top back on, then decided it would be extremely advantageous for him if Elena got a little drunk. Everyone became_ very _honest when they were intoxicated, even him. Which had the potential to be very dangerous, but he couldn't worry about that now. He needed to find out what she was planning. He unscrewed the top for the second time and poured another serving.

"I'm not up to anything." She returned.

"You're a bad liar." He said with a smirk.

She fell silent, tracing the fiddle of her fingers as she drew towards him while he held out the glass of bourbon for her. "This drink is the devil." She stated once taking the glass from him and holding it to her nose.

"Nah, it's good for the soul." He told her, lifting his glass. "Besides, alcohol is exactly what you need right now."

Elena sighed. "Yeah, maybe you're right." She lifted her own glass to meet with his, a small clink sounding through the silent apartment before they simultaneously brought the brim of the glass to their lips and forced the liquid down their throats.

"Let's play a game." Damon suggested with an expression and mind full of mischief, downing what was probably his sixth drink. He peered at Elena across the coffee table, satisfied that she was matching him in consuming drink for drink. Luckily for him, he could handle his drink, and it was apparent, she could not. If the sated half smile and glassing of her chocolate eyes said anything, it was that.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion while her mouth tugged into a full smile. "What kind of game?"

"The kind where we tell the truth," He offered, mirroring her smile, as she seemed to contemplate it. Much to his surprise, her head began to nod and her hand shot out to sweep up the half-drunken bottle of bourbon. She poured herself a glass then leaned over the table to provide him with the same.

"What're the rules?" she queried, already taking a sip of her fresh drink.

"You get a choice; tell the truth or take a drink."

"But wait, how do we know the other persons not lying? We could just be saying it's the truth when its not."

"Guess we'll just have to trust each other then."

Damon watched her smile and decided it remained one of the most beautiful things he would ever have the pleasure of seeing in his whole life. She was truly magnificent, and she was here, with him. Then, why weren't they together? Because in all honesty; he didn't trust her? Or because he was scared? Maybe it was both.

"I'll start." He said while still being very aware of how dangerous this was, a mixture of alcohol and truth telling between exes, or whatever they were, could never end well. But the determination to find out what she had up her sleeve in regards to Frank pushed the worries aside. What was the worst that could happen? They'd fight, hurt one another? They'd already done that so really it was a moot point. "Are you planning something?" he dove straight in.

Elena looked at him, then to her drink, and finally made a quick decision on drinking instead of revealing the truth, strengthening his theory but not wrecking his plans. It wouldn't be long until she was entirely wasted, and then he had no doubt she would have no problem at all telling him everything.

"My turn." The devilish image of her smile matched the one he'd given her moments ago and he silently dreaded what her question would be. If he wanted to win at this game, he needed to not be drunk as what he was planning for her to be, so if it came down to it, he would have to tell the truth rather than drink. Somehow, he doubted that was going to go well. Even with a plan, she still seemed to have the upper-hand. How did that happen?

"How many women have you slept with?"

Uh-oh.

Okay, so maybe he would have to start giving the truth in the next round. Picking up his drink and swallowing a large gulp, Damon watched as Elena's bottom lip jutted out. "You're no fun." She teased.

"I wouldn't regard me enduring the gruelling experience of telling another woman how many women I've slept with, as _fun." _He countered.

"Okay, fine." She accepted more than willingly. "Since you're not willing to participate in a game of sex tales, it's your turn."

Then he gave her a serious look, and she mirrored it as he readied himself to present the question. "Where did you go, when you left?"

It was something he hadn't asked her since she had returned, mostly for the reason that he didn't want to think, or even know what she'd been doing, or where she was when he had been here, in this apartment, fighting with the ache in his heart.

"Everywhere," She admitted in an excited breathy tone that stabbed at Damon. "We just drove, for miles. Slept in the car or in these awful," she chuckled. "seedy motels, until I was ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To come back."

Damon averted his gaze and swallowed down the rest of his drink, but still noticed the subtle shift of her body around the coffee table out the corner of his eye. She relocated her small frame into the gap between the table and the sofa, but he still didn't look at her.

"I needed time, space." She began to explain. "I was scared, and on top of that, confused."

The slight shake in her voice created the assumption that she was nervous, but she always had been when it came to telling him how she felt.

"What were you scared of?" he asked once allowing his gaze to find her.

"Frank." She finished off her drink, using it to support her in continuing. "I had no plan to leave, not even when I ran from the altar. But as soon as I got outside those church doors, and felt how free I finally was, I knew it would come at a price. I got scared, and I ran."

"You once told me you didn't care what Frank did to you."

"I didn't. Not back then. I had nothing to lose, nothing to be scared for. No future, no life, no happiness. I saw no way out, so it didn't matter what happened."

"You had me." He stated with growing anger.

"But I didn't!"

The outburst surprised him, but he quickly pushed into recovery. She was stronger, much stronger than when she'd left. She always had been, but somehow in two months, she'd changed in the best way she could.

"There was nothing for us." She tried again, this time calm and composed stained her voice. "No future, nothing."

Unlike her, he hadn't stifled his frustration, and it needed to vent. "So, instead of coming to me, you ran. From everything we could've had together."

A defeated sigh escaped her. "I know it doesn't make sense. What I was feeling didn't make sense. I was just so torn. I wasn't sure about us, I didn't know if I trusted you anymore, not after seeing Katherine."

"I already told you-

"That that wasn't why you were in love with me, I know." He noticed her choice of past tense in regards to his love for her, discovering he didn't relish in it like he thought he would've when she returned, he was instead, disappointed. "Damon, don't you get it? I haven't been able to trust anyone for so long. It's what's natural to me not to trust anything anyone says. I trusted you. And just like them, you proved to me exactly why I shouldn't have. But I'm trying now, I really am. I came back because I want to trust that what we have is real."

Damon felt as though his heart has tripled in size, finding he had to take a moment before providing her with any sort of reply.

"I am sorry for not telling you about Katherine. It was stupid. I kept it from you for this exact reason; I didn't want you assuming I was in love with you just because you looked like her. Because that wasn't the case at all."

Emotion rose in her chocolate eyes and a small smile formed on her lips.

"But what I hid from you was _nothing _like what Frank and Derek did to you. I was not them, I am not them." Each word was strong and emphasized in an almost growl, and he could've sworn he recognized desire possess Elena's features.

"Of course I know that."

"Obviously you didn't." Damon shot back. "I just, I hate that I couldn't make you stronger. That I couldn't make you feel safe enough to stay."

And that was it. He hadn't even realised that was how he felt until he heard it. Cliché as it was, he wanted to be her saviour, her hero. And the fact that she evidently hadn't needed him for that hurt him.

"You did make me stronger." She told him. "Everything I did, everything I am right now, is because of you." He watched her shift even closer to him, and though she was still a distance away, he felt he could swim in her, "You made me feel safer than I had for so long, you saved me. Do you realise that?"

Silence remained, as uncertainty of whether her revelation caused him a sensation of unbelievable happiness or further torture overwhelmed his emotions.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" She asked while setting down her glass and refilling it to the top. The clink of the glass against his coffee table serving as a good distraction for the time being, because though he would never regard anything they shared as a regret or a mistake, it still seemed to pain him whenever he had to think about it. He gave a simple nod once she finished recapping the bottle of bourbon, the pang of loss suddenly cancelled out by gratitude for that night. They may not be together, and they may be lost to one another for a long time from now, but he was certain he would never wish for that night back. It brought him to her. And so he was left with the simple understanding that after everything, he was still grateful for her. For their meeting, for the way he loved her more than he had ever loved any woman. He may have spent time wishing his feelings would somehow evaporate from inside him, because then he wouldn't have to miss her so much it hurt, but he had never once wished they had never met, and right now, he didn't have any kind of hope for his feelings to disappeared.

"You kissed my hand." Elena reminded. "And I remember this flutter in my stomach, and the way my heart seemed to stop just at the sight of you."

He watched her recall it with a shine to her eyes he knew wasn't due to the alcohol she'd consumed.

"I couldn't keep my eyes off you for the rest of the night."

"Neither could I." Damon confessed in return, triggering a small smile of gratitude upon her lips that revealed no teeth.

"The moment you took my hand, it felt like in an instant I came to life, and four years of feeling like I barely existed were washed out completely, by you." Their eyes remained caught in a heated, yet in some way vulnerable, stare. "You, and your cocky smirk, and the bluest eyes I've ever seen. You just erased it all, every bad thing that'd happened, every time I was with you, it was gone." She took a brief pause. "But then...when I saw her, that I looked like her, my whole world came crashing down. I thought that was the reason you looked at me like I was only person in the room that night, because you needed me to be her, because that's who you thought I was."

His head hung and shoulders sagged in defeat. Of course he knew he'd hurt her, he hated himself for it, but hearing the reasons for her departure justified the act itself, causing guilt to replace what little anger he had left towards her.

"Can you understand?" she wondered with a kind of hope in her voice that made him ache internally and he swiftly provided a nod. "Then I just have one more question."

She shifted closer. "The same rules apply. You can answer or you can drink. It's your choice."

"Okay."

"Are you still attracted to Katherine?" her face told him she was dreading the answer he would give, but of course, there was no need.

"No." His head shook in confidence and he took a drink, his back still casually leant against the chair behind him.

"Are you still attracted to me?" this time the dread had succeeded in seeping into her question while his stomach flipped over. What was he supposed to say? 'Yes I am very much still attracted to you, in fact I daydream about you constantly, and I would like nothing more than to take you on my coffee table right now'?

"That's two questions."

"Right." She murmured sadly. Just as she twisted her body and began another shift of her knees, except this time it was to move away from him, he reached out.

"Yes." It was the softest he had spoken and the most nervous he had been for a while. Her face seemed to light up, reminding him it would be appropriate that he take his hand from her arm."Now I get two turns."

His change of the subject proved successful when she smiled and grabbed the bottle of bourbon, preparing for the next round with large swig. He watched her throat move as she swallowed it down, the bottle still tilted and the liquid still pouring down her throat at a reasonable pace, forcing his retrace of the bruises and a stirring of sickness in his stomach. She may be chugging down bourbon like it was water but he was glad for the lightened atmosphere. "What did you ask Caroline to do for you?" he finally managed once she separated from the bottle.

"Leave the city, go back home to her family for a while." She wiped across her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Why?"

"I don't want her used as a way to hurt me. I won't let that happen, not to her." She said passionately. "Not to anyone I love."

It was directed at him, they both knew it, but what worried Damon was, how far was she willing to go with this? She hadn't asked him to leave the city, because they were both fully aware that he wouldn't do it. Then what was she planning on doing? For a woman who needed to be in control it was inevitable that she had something up her sleeve to ensure he didn't get hurt, and he had no doubt that was the thing she was hiding, but the important question was; what was it? And why did she need to keep it from him?


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: T**his took my waay longer than it should've! But anyway, its finally here! Repetitive but THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING, READING, FAVOURITING, and alll that jazz. you're amazing :) oh and, JIEFGWUIERGIWB = that was my reaction to the kiss in the last episode. I may have died, I don't really know. ANYWAY, ENJOY! let me know what you think ;D xxxxxxx

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><p><strong>25<strong>

_Is there clarity in this insanity? What's she want from me? __Roads in front of me, taking me astray. __Are you leaving me? Or are you leading the way? __Can you hear what I'm saying? I need to know. - _**Kris Allen.**

Damon rolled onto his stomach beneath the sheets while on the verge of consciousness then did a final tumble into complete awareness as the palm of his hand reached out to find the other side of the bed empty. It was solely out of habit, and unlike before, a part of him was glad he found nothing. Otherwise, things would've no doubt gotten a lot tenser. The simplest touch of her set him off, and that was something he needed to avoid for the time being. He needed his head on straight.

Though it could be argued that things couldn't possibly get any tenser between two people who had in the past slept together countless times sharing a bed again, but he wasn't going to push it any further than that. Sharing a bed was dangerous enough territory for them, and he had decided against it, even in a drunken stupor, but Elena had _insisted _he couldn't sleep on the sofa, and that it was 'nothing they hadn't done before.' It was true, and it didn't take much persuading. He was drunk, so was she. What harm could it do? And surprisingly, he had fallen to sleep quite quickly. If he'd been sober, there was no possible way he would've gotten to sleep so easily, his body, his everything, would've been kicked into overdrive with her next to him, in the same bed, wearing his shirt as a nightdress. He vaguely remembered being envious that his own shirt got to hang on her body, while he, himself, had been forbidden by his own mind to touch her at all.

Damon sat up and groaned out loud at the painful discovery of his hangover. Last night, he had planned on waking up with a painful thump in his head that would've been worth it if he'd succeeded in getting Elena's plan from her. It was safe to say, he had impulsively jumped on board of a plan that inevitably wouldn't go his way.

Running the night through his mind, he found some parts were hazy, and others were not. The luscious smell of her hair as it created a curtain of chocolate over her own pillow and a small amount of his was as fresh in his mind as if it was a few seconds ago. Even drunk, he took in every detail of her. How sad was that?

He also remembered settling on the theory that what she was hiding had something to do with protecting him from Frank. He almost scoffed at the thought. He didn't need protecting, especially from Frank. He could handle himself; something he made sure of for both him and Stefan when they were growing up. And if that ever failed, he had a Glock G21 hidden in his bedside table that was just _dying_ to take Frank down a peg or two.

Damon ran a hand through his messy dark hair and swung his legs over the side of the bed, setting his feet firmly on the floor before rising from the mattress. He wondered how difficult the day ahead would be since it had to be spent at the office for nine hours straight, and on a floor beneath a sworn enemy. He wouldn't even have Stefan there to aid in soothing the pain in his head. He could always count on Stefan to take his mind off things; usually through shared banter. A wave of loss ran through Damon at the thought of it. He missed Stefan. Even the phone calls every couple of days weren't the same as him actually being here. Though Damon still managed to relish in the annoyance that stirred in his younger brother's voice when he teased him, it wasn't the same as experiencing it firsthand. He had Stefan think he never took his advice, but the truth was, he relied on it, he relied on Stefan and he couldn't help but feel things would be easier if he had him here for support.

Heavy padding of his feet took him across the apartment, and as he closed in on the bathroom, he caught sound of the quiet spray of the shower. _That's where she was._

He awkwardly took a step back from the closed door, images of Elena's naked body glistening with water flashing through his mind. Maybe he hadn't thought through her living here with him either. They'd be living in each other's hair, sharing personal space. How long could he restrain the animal within that wanted to pounce on her? _Not very long_, doubt told him.

It wasn't much time until the water turned off and her soft exit from the walk-in shower could be heard on the other side of the door, causing Damon to fall into an anxious state as he awaiting her appearance.

The door opened and Elena stepped out, clutching one of his white towels around her small frame, the wet shine evident on her bared shoulders and neck. Her head finally lifted and she looked surprised to see him.

"You're up." Her grasp on the towel tightened and her gaze travelled down his half-naked form in a ravenous manner. A smirk couldn't resist falling upon his lips. It's not like he purposely hadn't worn a shirt, it was just he hadn't worn one to bed for years and when he tried; it annoyed him and made him hot under the sheets. And under last night's circumstances, he needed to be as cool as possible.

Once she realised his smirk and the awareness that she was indeed, checking him out, she shifted uncomfortably and blushed. _She was adorable._

While her gaze averted, it gave him time to do his own exploring. Something he probably shouldn't be doing. But it was apparent that he couldn't resist. If he couldn't have her, then the least he could do was look. Beginning at the wet mass of darkened chocolate hair, then wandering down to her neck where the dark purple bruises Frank caused currently resided, along one prominent collarbone and finished off at her shoulder. How was it possible to love every single part of a person? She was still as sexy and beautiful as ever, and she still forced a shock of arousal through him.

Their eyes met again, and it was a few long, torturous moments before he forced through the tension that begged to be cut through, or on the other hand, relieved. Settling on the safest choice, which didn't have the possibility of his heart being torn in two once again, he decided to cut.

"I'll shower while you get dressed." He told her. "There are clothes in your bag." He turned and gestured towards the bag placed on the leather sofa before slipping around her, his eyes finding her bare skin again as he did so, while common sense forced his arm to rapidly shut the door.

He stepped onto the ceramic floor of the shower, where only minutes ago, Elena had been, and found solace under the hot spray of the water.

Of course, he hadn't thought this would be a breeze, it was obvious them sharing an apartment when they were completely off-limits to one another was going to put a strain on his sanity. But he hadn't even _imagined_ it would be this hard. In more ways than one. How was he going to survive this?

Something inside him was begging that he relief the raging need he had to have her again, to possess her entirely, to pull screams and breathless pants from her pouted lips and desperate calls of his name the way he could every single time before.

He shook the images from his mind, desperate not to be reminded of how hot the sex was between them, but obviously his dick had already caught on because he felt himself harden. He couldn't do that while she was on the other side of the door could he? No, definitely not.

He fought the urge to take hold of himself, and instead tilted his head back to allow his hair to become entirely wet before he picked up the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount into the palm of his hand.

As he rubbed it into his scalp, his mind wandered back to the image of Elena. Except this time, it focused on the self-created illustration of her naked body, stood in this very spot, her skin slippery and glistening with water, her nipples hard from the heat. It was enough to create a soft, quiet moan from him. His erection was throbbing now, and the desperation to have her pinned against the shower wall as he thrust in and out of her, dragging moans and cries from her that only existed in his memory stirred a frustration that gave him no choice but to take a strong hold of his painfully hard penis. Shutting his eyes tight, Damon moved his hand up and down the length, all thoughts of Elena clouding his senses.

His pumps suddenly becoming desperate when he more than willingly stumbled on the memory of how perfect and tight she was, how he seemed to fit perfectly within her. Something that paired with the way he was touching himself, instantly triggered a breathy moan that he would've been worried Elena might hear if he wasn't so lost in his slow approach to personal ecstasy.

He felt a ghost of a kiss placed against his shoulder blade that was much too soft to be real. A kiss from a pair of lips he would recognize the feel of anywhere, a pair of lips his imagination had conjured up, even though the real pair were only a door away. He would only have to call out for her, tempt her inside the shower with him where he could ravage her; make her forget her own name. That was what she wanted wasn't it? She'd made it clear that's what she wanted. She even asked for confirmation of his attraction for her last night. Then why didn't he just do it? Take what he needed, what he desperately wanted?

Because he was scared.

Even with his stray from the path, he continued pumping away until his toes curled and his body tensed, bringing about a gasp as he spilled onto the shower floor and watched as it washed down the drain with the water.

Now he only hoped that would ease the tension, at least until he left for work. Which suddenly, he wasn't dreading. Maybe because drowning in Elena for the whole day sounded much less appealing and much more of a struggle. If _this _was the only way he could endure being around her then he would need to take regular trips to the shower a handful of times a day, along with a drink or two. At least on the weekends.

Once he was sure the shampoo was rinsed from his hair, he turned to hot water knob to off and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping a white towel around his hips, Damon took a deep breath and ran a hand through his soaked midnight hair in preparation for the contact with the other side of the bathroom door.

To his surprise, Elena was fully changed into a pair of black leggings, black boots that came to slightly above the ankle and a long white vest. Though her body had made a complete transformation, her hair still held a dampness as it fell down past her shoulders. Her eyes weren't on him; they were trained on the necklace her fingers fiddled with uncomfortably.

However, it didn't take longer than a split second for her to become aware of his re-appearance into the room because her eyes finally lifted to meet his, not without briefly eyeing his still bare torso beforehand. "There's something you should know."

Damon waited for a continuance, and she swiftly provided it.

"I'm giving this to Katherine." She revealed with finality.

Unable to make a response, silence took hold of the apartment as Damon attempted to process what she'd just told him, along with an uncertainty as to whether he'd actually heard her correctly. She was_ giving_ the necklace to Katherine? Yesterday morning they'd been set on doing the exact opposite.

"You- you're what?" he asked in disbelief while approaching her.

"We need her."

"We need her to what exactly?" he demanded. "Be a conniving bitch, to double cross us?"

"Without her, we don't stand a chance, and you know it." She told him strongly.

"No, I_ don't_ know it." His exclamation consisted of both desperation and defiance. When had she jumped onboard the 'we love Katherine' parade? Elena had expressed an utter dislike of Katherine since day one, so then why now was she willing to cooperate with the she-devil herself?

He knew Katherine, a lot better than Elena did. And one thing was for sure; she couldn't be trusted.

"Damon-

"There are a hundred better ways we can deal with this, and none of them include Katherine." He said her name like it was a bad taste in his mouth and watched as Elena took a step towards him, the closeness causing the air to thicken.

Elena held up the necklace. "_This _gets her on our side."

Damon shook his head and forced a bitter chuckle while tightening his grip on the towel that covered his lower-half. "I don't have time for _this_. Whatever _this _is."

She watched him with narrowed eyes as he rounded her, pulled open his wardrobe and grabbed out a suit.

"Why? Where are you going?" the small shake in her voice told him she was scared and it sparked his curiosity. What was she scared of exactly? Being alone? Or was it more than that?

The problem was she wouldn't tell him, _anything, _for that matter. She wouldn't confide in him what she had planned, or why she had decided to give the necklace to Katherine. From what he could tell, she wasn't lying about them needing Katherine, but she was hiding something. And he didn't like it.

And he couldn't make her realise something she should already know; Katherine could not be trusted.

Damon held up the suit before disappearing back into the bathroom where he could slip into his pants without worrying about her seeing him fully exposed. Once secured within them, he stepped back out and grabbed his white shirt from the bed. "Work."

"But..."

"But what? You want me to stay here so we can fight some more over how you're making a huge mistake in trusting Katherine?"

"I didn't say I trusted her." Elena objected.

"Right, you just think we need her."

A defeated sigh came from her and she placed the necklace down on the bed then took a seat next to it. "Can't you just trust me?"

"I don't know, can I?" he spat out without thought.

Hurt flashed across her features, and guilt consumed him. He was making an accusation he had no right to. It wasn't her that kept him from trusting her again, it was entirely himself. He was stuck behind his own fear, and had no idea on how to get past it.

Her head went down and he blew out harshly.

"I didn't mean that." Damon picked up the necklace and sat in its place, the outside of their legs touching as he did.

"No, it's fine." She assured in a small voice then rose from the bed as if being physically close to him pained her. "I get it. You don't trust me. It's what I had coming, right?"

She was purposely laying down distance between them and he could practically see her walls going back up, shielding her from him. He wanted to kick himself. He wasn't supposed to be the one hurting her. And he surely wasn't supposed to be the one making her cower away behind a wall she made herself.

How could he go to work now? He was obligated to fix this, to tear down the walls again. The worst thing was she believed she deserved this; being hurt by him, she welcomed it. And that reason itself pushed him onto the decision that he wasn't going to work today.

"Elena," he stood and drew towards her with the necklace still in his palm. She tried to take a step away but he stopped her by taking her hand in his, turning the palm upwards and placing the necklace into it. Tingles shot through him due to the contact, along with the way her eyes burned with an intensity that was as hard to control as a fire was, and he had no doubt in his mind that she was experiencing it too. "If this is what you want to do, then you should do it." His voice was soft, and her expression seemed to melt in response.

He began to pull his hand back when she placed her free one on top, effectively stopping him. "I need you on my side too, Damon."

"I am on your side."

"Then come with me." Her hands were enveloping his in a warmth so intimate he wanted to crawl inside it. "I need you with me."

Damon swallowed down the effect those words had on him, realizing it was something he hadn't heard pass her lips for longer than he liked. The first time she'd ever said it to him was the night he discovered the bruise on her face. She'd said it with such passion and vulnerability; that even now it made him warm inside. This one may not hold the same desperation, but it had the same openness that proved her walls were back down, and it forced him into giving her what she wanted. He needed to trust her, and maybe this was a step in that direction.

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><p>Elena walked through the entrance of Lloyds, scanning for the woman who held a striking resemblance to herself. When she finally caught sight of her, she turned to Damon at her side before setting off in that direction. With her hand secured around the necklace that hid in her jacket pocket, she stopped at Katherine's side, mirroring her casual lean against the bar.<p>

"Katherine." Elena greeted her coolly.

"I see you brought your trusty bodyguard." Katherine returned, without tearing her gaze from Matt as he moved between customers.

"That's not the only thing I brought." Elena revealed the necklace as discreetly as possible, catching Katherine's attention along with a lighting of her face. Just like every person who had set sights on it before, Katherine was hooked. Her lips tugged into a smile then a small moan of approval left them.

"It's just as I remembered."

Elena frowned and looked to Damon who was stood the other side of Katherine, wearing the same confused expression across his beautiful features. He was truly magnificent. It was something she was reminded of every time she saw him. He was without a doubt, something to be thankful for. Unfortunately, he wasn't hers. Not anymore. But that was something she was hoping to change.

"What do you mean 'just as you remembered'?" Damon asked, placing an elbow on the bar's wooden surface, successfully grabbing Katherine's focus from the deep blue diamond.

"It was mine." Katherine explained with softness to her voice Elena had never witnessed. It actually _meant _something to Katherine. The way she looked at it, spoke about it. It belonged to her. It never had belonged to Elena, because she hadn't claimed it as her own. She hadn't wanted it from the moment Frank gave it to her. Now it played a key role in her plan. While it had once been her anchor, now, it was part of her way out.

"Frank gave this to you first." Elena said.

"It was for my birthday." Katherine's gaze was back on the necklace and her long fingers drew careful patterns along each of the diamonds surrounding the heart. "He just showed up with it, first thing in the morning."

Elena marked the soft smile and the light in her almost black eyes, her mind making a startling discovery. "You were in love."

"At one time, I guess we were, or I just was." Katherine said. "Or maybe that's just what he had me think, I don't know. Then he changed. He... became cruel, possessive."

"He became who he really is." Elena countered, and then looked to Damon, who had also made the connection. Turns out, she actually did have things in common with Katherine; the biggest being Frank, and the way he had treated them both.

"He wouldn't let me go anywhere, talk to anyone he didn't approve of. And if I stepped out of line..."

"He'd hit you." Elena finished off.

She noticed Katherine's voice didn't yield the same hurt, or anxiety that could be heard in her own. Maybe because her distress was much fresher than Katherine's, or maybe it was that Katherine was stronger. Either way, she wished for whatever kept Katherine unfazed by what Frank had put her through.

"At first it was just slaps, and then it turned into punches that made my cheek feel like it was going to explode." Katherine picked up the drink she hadn't touched since they arrive and knocked it back without hesitating. "But, you already know all this, don't you?" she looked at Elena. Then as if reading her earlier thoughts, added; "Guess we have a lot more in common than you thought."

"So, that's it then?" Damon looked between the two of them with raised eyebrows. "We let you walk out of here with that necklace, trusting you're not actually playing us right now?"

"She's not playing us, Damon." Elena cut in.

"And what makes you so sure?" he returned.

"She wants to be free of him as much as I do." Elena answered with her eyes on Katherine. "Don't you?"

Katherine looked at her sideways then silently motioned for another drink from Matt. Elena didn't need confirmation. She knew that was why Katherine was offering her help, why she was choosing to be on Elena's side rather than Frank's. She wanted out, and just like the necklace; Elena played a vital part in helping her succeed with that. That's what worried Elena the most; so much of this was relying on her. If she messed up, all of this was a waste. If Frank even caught a sniff of Katherine's betrayal, of their scheming, it was over. They wouldn't get another chance like this. And that's why she needed to get stronger. She needed to be ready.

Katherine stayed silent, shooting a wink to Matt as he provided a fresh drink of what Elena could only assume by the smell of it was whiskey then watched as he returned to his duties at the other end of the bar, Katherine's eyes still glued to him. "I could just swim in those eyes."

Elena peered over her shoulder at Matt, smiling to herself for a brief moment before turning back to Katherine and climbing onto the empty bar stool next to her.

"How old were you, when you met Frank?" Elena queried.

Katherine took a moment then began. "I was...19. I was in a pretty dark place back then. I'd been suffering with an eating disorder since I was 16 and it led to depression, or that's what the doctors told me. I was completely numb, and so messed up. I had pushed away everyone I loved; I shut myself off completely, so they put me on anti-depressants." Katherine's eyes remained hidden from Elena's view as she eyed the drink in her hand, but if she could see them at this very moment, Elena knew by the sadness in the other brunette's voice, they would show the kind of emotion she had never let show. Not to Elena, and probably not to Damon. "They warn you that taking them can make you feel so much worse than you did before. And it was right. I started cutting myself when I would get into one of the regular arguments I had with my parents. In a way, it was like punishment, for being so weak, for being so helpless. Feeling helpless... it's one of the worst things you can ever feel. I didn't know how to keep on going, or if I even wanted to. Then I met Frank."

Damon and Elena shared a knowing look that was triggered from a simultaneous realization that Frank had magically appeared into both Elena and Katherine's lives at a point where they were entirely open to manipulation due to their vulnerability. But they kept quiet, and allowed Katherine to continue with her story.

"He was charming, and kind. He made me feel special, like I was actually worth something. And I needed that. I needed to feel like I was something, or anything, to someone. And I needed an escape. So when he offered me one, I took it, without hesitating." Katherine finished off her drink then set it back down forcefully. "I left a note for my parents, packed a bag, and... escaped."

"Where did he take you?"

"Here." Katherine answered simply. "He was already living here, starting his business, so he moved me in with him." she paused to once again gesture to Matt for another drink. It amazed Elena how she seemed to so effortlessly catch the attention of anyone she came into contact with, and with a bat of her eyelashes, had them wrapped around her finger from there on out. Elena never had that kind of confidence or ability to control the room the moment she stepped into it. She was the opposite of Katherine, she was introvert, but still held the kind of fire Katherine put on show for the whole world to see. Elena was just more private with hers, and the only person she'd let see it was Damon.

"Well," Katherine blew out a sigh of relief and relaxed against the back of the metal stool. "That's my story over and done with." She swallowed back a large amount of her drink, and allowed the sarcastic and care-free version to re-possess her. "Now can we move on?"

It wasn't a request. Katherine dug into her bag that was settled on the ground next to her heeled boots and returned with a thick tan coloured file that the tossed onto the bar in front of Elena.

"What's this?" Elena asked, eyeing it.

"All the answers you want." Katherine replied casually, jumped down off the bar stool, eliciting a clap of her boots against the floor before gathering her bag and taking her turn to leave. But not before providing the pair with a cryptic; "I'll be in touch," which was swiftly followed by a turn of her head to focus completely on Elena, a knowing expression masking their extreme similar features. "Then it begins." Katherine told her.

Elena felt a shot of fear and it caused her heart to sink into the pit of her stomach. And she hated it. She needed to be strong, prepared for what was to come, but she couldn't feel farther from it.

What if the worst case scenario occurred? What if she couldn't make herself strong enough for this?

There was so much uncertainty surrounding it, and she didn't like it. She was anxious, she was scared, and she was unbelievably worried. She wished this responsibility could be handed over to someone else, but then she was reminded that it couldn't be someone else's problem to overcome. It was hers. She was the only one who could do this. It was _her_ Frank wanted to extract revenge upon. And that's why it had to be her. It couldn't be Katherine, she wished it could be. Because Katherine had the kind of strength she needed to go through with this. And without it, she didn't know if it was possible to succeed in their plan.

Elena was entirely submerged in thought until the softest contact initiated from Damon's hand upon her arm dragged her out of it.

She looked around to find Katherine gone, and a soft concern gracing Damon's face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." Elena murmured for her own benefit rather than his. She hopped down from the stool and grabbed the file from the bar, silently hoping that no spilled alcohol had seeped its way through whatever was inside, then started off towards the exit with Damon right behind.

They reached the cool of the outside air, and he still didn't press the matter or ask for the reason her forehead held an intense crease, probably knowing it was best to let her mull it over in her head for a while, Elena assumed. Therefore, they walked back to the apartment in silence and only when they made it inside Damon's apartment, had discarded of their jackets and shoes did he speak.

"That was interesting." He said with a mixture of amusement.

Elena lifted her head and looked at him, pushing out a half-hearted chuckle before returning her focus to the file held in between both hands.

"Yeah..." her fingers traced the smooth texture of the file, teasing the edge but never opening it to reveal what was inside. "Somehow, her past justifies the person she is now. When you think about it, she's just protecting herself."

Damon approached her at a slow pace. "You had it just as bad. If not, worse. You haven't turned into that kind of person."

Their eyes met. "Not yet."

"No." He said strongly. "Not ever."

"Maybe that's the problem." She said with a vulnerability that enticed his hand to take place on the side of her face.

"What do you mean?"

Elena shook her head and his hand fell from her cheek. "Is it such a bad thing? Being like her? She's strong. She can get things done. She doesn't let anything get in her way."

"She's strong because she doesn't let herself _feel _anything." Damon returned. "That's not who you are. You could never be that person, you could never be her, and you shouldn't want to be. You feel everything. I know you do, I see it. Katherine? She doesn't. You want to know something? What we just saw, that was the first time I have ever seen her show any kind of emotion. It's not healthy, it's not right. It shouldn't be a goal for you, it should be something you wish you would never end up like. You should pity her, not be inspired by her."

"But that's what I need to be strong; I need her to make me that."

"Let _me _make you strong. Tell me what's going on; tell me what you're hiding. I can help you; I can be there for you."

"You can't." she told him. "I wish I could have you in this, but I can't. I'm sorry."

Damon took a few moments then let out an aggravated sigh. "Then I don't know what to do. You ask me to trust you, yet you won't tell me what you're doing."

"Because it's not your problem, it's mine!" Elena cried out. "I got myself into this. I have to get myself out."

"At what cost?"

She bit down on her lip and let her eyes wander to the file still in her hands. Dread and anxiety filled her as the possibilities of how this could go wrong stampeded through her mind. "If everything goes right, there won't be one."

Though it sounded like a simple statement as it left her mouth, inside, she was wishing it to come true. A few days from now, she wanted to be able to turn to him, Damon Salvatore, the first and only love of her life, and smile with certainty that she was free, that they both were. That they'd come out the other end, stronger than ever. But that was something she couldn't be sure of. She didn't know that was how it would be. She didn't know anything right now.

Elena held up the file then dropped it onto the coffee table and followed it down, her knees meeting with the wooden floor. She watched as Damon did the same then with a slow and careful manoeuvre of her slender fingers opened the file.

Her eyes scanned down the first page and she fiercely flicked to the next, then the next, a sharp gasp flying from her mouth that got caught on her fingertips. Damon was around the table and crouched at her side in an instant, taking over with the inspection of the files contents, his eyes widening almost as much as Elena's.

"Oh my..." Elena barely whispered past the lump in her throat. "What the hell is this?" she asked though already knowing the answer.

"The reason it had to be you and Katherine." Damon answered, thumbing through each page until he reached the end. "And God knows how many others."


	26. Chapter 26

**AN: **hiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIYA. This took me so long, I kept having to do small parts at a time, I'm really sorry you guyssss! I've just been busy and its been so HOT here in wales (which is literally rare as finding treasure.) so I have to make the most of it! But don't worry, I'm fully intending on getting the next chapter up quicker! It is one of the last ones after all ;) And have no fear, EVERYTHING about the file, the girls, will be fully explained next chapter, (by frank) hehe. HOPE YOU ENJOY. Let me know what you think and alllllll that, it means so much that you read this and review and everything. It's amazing, so thank you :D LATERS HOMIES xxxxxxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>26<strong>

_We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it. – _**Tennessee Williams.**_  
><em>

"Damon, there's over half a dozen girls in here." Elena continued to flick fiercely through the file, a dreadful shake finding its way into her voice the longer she looked at each attached photograph of young girls with hair a warm chocolate brown, and their eyes dark like her own, like Katherine's. She reached the beginning for the third time, and stopped, then lifted her eyes to meet Damon's. "All been missing since they were nineteen."

Damon's attention went back to the file, extending a hand to flip back through. "They still are."

"It's him." She said while rising up from her knees on limbs that held the same slight shake as her voice. She scanned around her, as if looking for something; answers? A way out of this mess? He didn't know.

"Whatever all this is, it started with her." Damon stabbed with his index finger at the photo that hung at the top of the first page, a photo of a young woman resembling the woman a few feet from him. If he had to guess, he'd say she was at least 20 years old when it was taken.

"But who is she?" Elena stressed.

"Adele Harper." Damon read from the top of the page. "Born May 20th 1966 in... Paradise, Nevada."

He looked up at Elena, the memory of the night she told him everything about her past now running rampant without permission through his head, zoning in on a minor detail. It was where Derek had taken her, for Frank's benefit. Why? Because it was the same town as this woman?

"It's Frank's hometown." Elena revealed quietly.

"So, what- They knew each other? They _know _one another?" Damon tried to grasp.

Elena remained silent, and put a palm to her forehead then forced it over the top of her head, pushing the thick curls from her face before she fell back onto the leather sofa. He climbed up next to her, his eyes never leaving her face as the sinking feeling in his stomach continued to go on for an eternity.

Was Frank really capable of all this? Sure, he was a grade A bastard, but this was beyond disturbed. A collection of young girls who all similarly resembled one another, disappeared at the age of nineteen, and all still missing? If he was to assume the worst, or the obvious, Damon would say they were all dead, just hadn't been found yet. And with Frank's connections, they'd stay that way. All these girls, because of one woman? _Who was she? _

"What else does it say about her?" Elena queried.

Damon scooted forward, retrieved the file and sat back again. "She went to school there, graduated, but didn't go to college."

Elena chuckled and he turned to look at her with surprise. Hearing her laugh, was one of his favourite sounds in entire world, but in the current situation? Felt odd. But still, it was infectious, and he couldn't help but join her.

"Where did Katherine even get all this from?"

He laughed even louder. "I know, right?"

They carried on like that for a few seconds until something caught Elena's attention, stopping her in her tracks. Her one hand went to his forearm and the other reached for the corner of the file.

"Damon," She beckoned, and he followed her now serious stare.

"What is it?" he asked, searching.

"She was married," She used her index finger to point out the newfound piece of information. "In 1990, to Frank Miller."

"For how long?"

"They were divorced a year later."

"There's the stressor."

Elena frowned. "The what?"

"The stressor," He said more clearly. "The thing that started him off on this path of destroying young girls who resemble the one woman who burned him," he tapped the photograph once more. "It's the only way he can deal with what happened. He was controlling, right? What if this is his way of reliving what he had with this woman? Except this time he's doing what he feels he should've which was kept her under control, watched what she did, and punished her for stepping out of line?"

"But that's crazy."

"That's a sadist."

"Again, what?"

"He gets off on it. Inflicting pain, fear, he imagines it's her, and he loves it. It gives him the release he needs."

She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, obviously finding it difficult to even process this. And he didn't blame her. It was so much worse than either of them could've imagined.

"But why hasn't he just gone straight to the source?" She queried after a few beats. "I mean, this woman, this Adele, she's not missing right?"

Damon peered down to the file. "No. She still lives in Paradise. There's no report of her being missing."

"Then what is he doing? Surely getting back at the person who you feel betrayed you, would include that person. Not a handful of girls that only resemble her." She pointed out.

Damon paused. "He's not ready for that yet."

"What do you mean?"

"He's building his confidence. He has to be ready to deal with her; obviously, he's not quite there yet."

"But I don't understand. I was with him for five years, Damon. That's a long time. Why wasn't I scratched off like the rest of these girls?"

"I don't know." He offered. "Maybe you fit the fantasy the most? Maybe you were the most like her."

"But wouldn't that make him want to get rid of me sooner?"

"Not necessarily. What if the reason he had to get rid of these girls was because they failed in his expectations? Something they did, or something they said, ruined the fantasy he had of them being this woman, ultimately forcing him to cast them out? But you... you were the most like her, and when you reached the age he had asked her to marry him, he did the same to you."

"But then I left him at the altar."

"And that ruined the fantasy once again. You failed, and now he has to get rid of you."

Elena kept silent, only looking at him from the sofa as the wheels turned over in his head and his feet took him back and forth the invisible line upon the wooden floor.

"But Katherine, she ran. She's been running from him for five years." He concluded, running a hand through his tousled hair and taking a breath in attempt to contain the thoughts that quickened his heartbeat and threatened to explode from his mind. "Then she came back." He came to a stop and looked at Elena. "Why would she come back?"

She shrugged indifferently, her eyes purposely refusing to meet his, and he realised she already knew. She knew why Katherine was back here, what she had planned, and she was in on it? The big secret, the thing she'd been hiding, included _Katherine_ of all people? How? And why? He thought back over the last few days, to Elena freaking out over Elijah, to forcing her to stay in his apartment, Katherine's call requesting the necklace, him leaving to get it from Caroline's, Elena turning up there an hour later with bruises on her neck-

That was it. That was the only space of time he could recall them spending apart. She must've contacted Katherine, and thick as thieves, they'd hatched a plan without letting him in on it. Why? Why couldn't they include him in it? It could only be one thing; it was putting Elena in danger.

"She has something better to offer, something he wants more than he wants her dead; you." He finally added, returning to sit on the sofa next to her. "But you already know all about that don't you?"

Her head lifted, revealing a surprised expression plastered on her features.

"Damon-

She tried but he cut her off, confident he was correct in his assumptions. "What the _hell _are you thinking?"

She looked slightly taken aback, but managed to pull herself together after a few moments. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" He rose up once again. "That you're being completely idiotic and not to mention reckless trusting someone like Katherine instead of me?"

"This isn't about trust." She tried to reason, keeping her voice low.

"So you'd get into bed with the devil without trust?" Damon exclaimed in disbelief.

"We both need each other. It doesn't entail trust."

"You need each other for _what_; to get yourselves killed? Because that's what's going to happen!"

"Not necessarily."

"I can't believe this." His voice had returned to normal and his head shook slowly. "I can't believe _you! _You just hand yourself over to Katherine's plan, without even including me-

"That's what this is about?" Her exclaim was loud and outraged as she rapidly stood up. "You don't like that I haven't included you in this?"

"Yes! The only reason you've hidden this from me is because there is no way in hell I would let you go through with this, and we both know it." He ground out.

Her head shook and her expression revealed distaste. "You are unbelievable."

"_You _are unbelievable!" He yelled. "You're being manipulated; you're letting her hand you over on a silver platter to a man who wants you dead!"

His words seemed to echo through both of them, eliciting a dead silence.

"I won't let you do this." Damon said after a few calming breaths.

"You don't have a say in this, Damon." She told him.

"I don't have a say in you walking into the lion's den?"

"No."

He blew out a heavy breath then turned away from her. Running both hands through his hair, he peered around the apartment, looking for what, he didn't know. Then Elena was at his side, pulling at his arm until neither hand was buried in the thick black tresses of his hair. Her eyes held an emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on as she looked up at him.

"This doesn't change anything, okay? We're still us, we're still..."

"It changes _everything_, Elena." He emphasized with emotion he wished wasn't evident in his voice. It was strangled, and weak, just like hers. "If what we're thinking happened to these girls, we're dealing with a serial killer here. Do you realize that?"

"Yes, of course I realize that."

"Then what are you doing?" He cried out, taking her face in his hands.

"I'm trying to fix this. I'm trying to deal with it."

"_We _could've fixed it;_ we_ could've dealt with it."

"No, we couldn't have." She said softly. "This was the only way."

Damon sighed, frustrated and took his hands back.

"Damon-

She attempted to reach out again but he moved away too quickly, leaving her with nothing.

"I need to get out of here." He turned, grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. "There's a gun in the bedside drawer. I'll be back soon."

Yes, it seemed stupid that he just leave her there, especially after what had happened the last time, but he couldn't stay in that apartment. He needed fresh air, and fresh bourbon, in a place that didn't have an ex-girlfriend with a hidden plan that was going to get her killed.

_What was she thinking? _

He didn't understand any of it. And she obviously wasn't willing to make him. So what should he do? Tie her up, gag her, and not let her out of his sight until it all blew over?

Sure, it seemed ridiculous, but effective.

What does she even mean _'this is the only way'_? There are other ways, aren't there? They could leave the city, together, they could run. But then again, Elena didn't want to run anymore, she wanted to face Frank, she wanted to be strong. And he'd admire her for it if it wasn't _so stupid_. They had just been shown that a man they'd both been working for in two very different ways was a psycho, and she was still up for being handed over to him? It was ridiculous. And it was all Katherine's fault.

_Katherine._

That's where he needed to go. Changing his desired destination, he set off down the street towards Elena's old apartment, hoping that was where Frank now had Katherine set up, cackling over the brim of her cauldron.

Ten minutes later, he was climbing the apartment buildings stairs, crossing the landing with determination and knocking harshly on the door. It was pulled open after a few seconds and there stood Katherine with the heart-shaped necklace that tempted you into its watery depth hung around her neck and a not-so-surprised look on her face. Knowing her, _which he did_, she had been expecting him. She silently beckoned him inside with a swipe of her hand through the air while standing to one side, and he quickly accepted. Stepping over the threshold, he readied himself for a fight, realizing it would be his second of the day and it was only the afternoon. Well this time, he wasn't going to lose. Because unlike with Elena, he didn't give a damn about Katherine's feelings, and she sure as hell didn't care about his.

"I need a drink." He said gruffly while passing her and heading into the middle of the spacious apartment. He whirled around on the heel of his boots and waited for her to push the door shut. "So, you've had a busy few days, huh?"

Katherine shrugged her slender shoulders and started off towards the kitchen. Damon naturally followed, and came to a stop at the opposite side of the island as she leant up and grabbed a half drunk bottle of tequila from the overhead cupboard. Setting it down on the marble surface of the island between them, Damon eyed her carefully then swept up the bottle by its neck, unscrewed the top and took a large swig.

"So, what do you want to know?" she asked from a casual lean against the counter as he swallowed the liquid down with a burning struggle. "If the girls are dead, where I got the information from, why do we all look very similar, who's the woman, and blah, blah, blah."

"I'm not here about the file." He said curtly, putting down the bottle and wiping all traces from his mouth with the back of his hand. Then straightaway, realized he should probably get some answers about that, as well as her and Elena's scheming. "Well, I am. But not just for that."

"Okay. Why else are you here?"

"Whatever you've got planned, whatever you dragged and manipulated Elena into, I want it off."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want you to call it off. Whatever it is, it's not happening."

Katherine let out a hard chuckle and pushed off the marble counter. "I didn't manipulate her into anything, Damon. I gave her another option, and she wouldn't take it. So, here we are."

"What option?" Damon demanded and picked up the bottle once again.

"You remember Elijah don't you?" Her smile was mischievous as she moved gracefully around the island that separated them and it put him on edge. She had always had this predatory element to her personality that could in an instant force you into the role of her prey. When they were together, it turned him on, _some of the time_, but now, it just made him uneasy, therefore, his gulp of tequila was much large this time.

"What about him?" He queried, taking a step back to safety with the bottle in his grasp and the liquid attacking his throat as she sauntered towards him, her hips swaying in an over-exaggerated manner.

"I gave Elena the offer of leaving with him. He could've kept her safe, hidden."

"Just like he did for you," Damon realized. "That's why Frank never caught up with you."

"Bingo." She chimed.

"So, what is he exactly? Police officer... Ninja?" He chuckled.

"An agent." Katherine answered, obviously choosing to ignore his attempt at a joke.

"FBI?"

She gave a nod.

"What the hell is an FBI agent doing mixed up with you?" He took another drink.

"I presented the case to him, told him about the missing girls, how similar they looked, and how they'd all gone missing from completely different towns so nobody picked up on it... and he accepted."

"Just like that," Damon commented with a raised brow and a tone soaked with doubt.

Katherine huffed and took another large step towards him. "Look, Elijah and I, we're a long story. He owed me; let's just leave it at that."

"And the offer you gave Elena?"

"I already _told_ you." Her patience was waning. She took the bottle from between his fingers and swallowed some down, instantly triggering a look of disgust on her face. Swiftly, she composed herself, and continued. "I told her she could leave with Elijah, disappear, and Frank would never find her, at least not for a long while anyway."

"And she didn't take it?" Damon queried.

"No, she didn't." Katherine confirmed, handing the bottle back to him, which he took more than willingly.

"Why?"

"Because it meant leaving you behind," She rolled her eyes as she spoke. "And of course, she could _never _do that."

He swallowed thick air, and felt a scorching hot hand wrap around his heart, then squeeze. Elena was doing this for him? Because she couldn't stand to leave him again? He didn't understand, or maybe he just didn't believe it. She had up and left only months ago, so why was it she couldn't now? His incapability to wrap his head around it dug him into an even deeper hole of frustration and forced the bottle to his lips again.

"What was the second option?" He asked once his mouth was free of alcohol.

Katherine sighed. "Oh, I didn't have one. She came up with this golden nugget all by herself."

Damon took a step forward until he was hovering above her, and with darkened features as well as tone, demanded; "What is it?"

He already knew the answer, or he could take a guess and probably get it right, but he needed to hear it from one of them, and since his try with Elena had failed, Katherine was all that was left.

"She's offered herself over. But Frank doesn't know that. He has too much pride to let it be her choice to go to him."

"And you, you get_ what_ in return? Frank's word, -which means nothing by the way- that he won't come after you once she's been handed over, and you've run for the hills?"

"He doesn't go back on his word, Damon." She assured with confidence.

"Is that a fact?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So, when he offered to take you away from all your problems when you were nineteen, did he tell you he was planning on embarking you on a wild and twisted fantasy where you were the representation of his ex wife who left him? That he would hit you, emotionally abuse you, and eventually get rid of you like all the other girls that came before you?"

"Of course not."

"No, he told you it would be a life of butterflies and ponies."

She just gazed at him, saying nothing and picking at her cuticles. That was something she'd always done when she was nervous or anxious. Which was a very rare occurrence, he could promise that. Katherine Pierce didn't get intimidated by any person or any situation, she was a brick wall. Literally.

"That's what I thought." Damon added. "Then I'd say he is more than capable of going back on his word."

"Look, this wasn't my idea alright? I was all set to deal with Frank myself, and then I get a call from Elena saying she needed my help. So that's what I'm doing, I'm helping her."

"How is this helping her?" His words came out as a yell, surprising them both. "Handing her over to a man who plans on killing her?_ That's _your version of help?"

"I'm _not _handing her over." She said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not." The hard edge in her voice made him stop and think. But so many things were occupying his mind, he couldn't manage to. He couldn't understand any of this. Something was missing, something vital. Something neither Elena nor Katherine intended on revealing. He was getting nowhere fast, and it was tempting him into exploding.

They hadn't told him anything, not really. It had all been cryptic responses coaxed by his wild guesses. Well, he did know _one _thing. Elena was set on offering herself to Frank. But he had no answers as to why she would even consider doing something like that. If he put together Elena's soft words; 'this is the only way', and Katherine's implication that Elena's choice had depended entirely on her inability to leave him again, he would come to the conclusion that she was doing it for him. But such a notion was ridiculous wasn't it? He wasn't blood, he wasn't an old friend. Inner hope whispered that it was because she loved him, as much as he loved her, but he quickly ordered it to be silent. He couldn't have such things clouding his judgement. He couldn't, he wouldn't assume this was all for him.

"Why?" He suddenly blurted out after a string of gulps from the bottle he hadn't registered he was taking until he felt the same sting in his throat and the wet of his lips. Now he was really feeling the effect, and it showed through the stain of emotion in his question. This has definitely been a bad idea, he couldn't keep things or his emotions under control if he was drunk and the worst thing he could be in front of Katherine was vulnerable.

"Why?" She echoed with a creased brow of confusion.

He took a moment, as well as another gulp of tequila from the bottle then tried again. "Why is she offering herself?"

"You already_ know_ why." Katherine ground out.

"No, I don't believe that for a second."

"Well, you should."

Damon frowned. "Since when do you believe in human decency?"

She took a final graceful step towards him, pried the bottle from his hand and returned it to the counter. Damon watched her with caution, worrying that he may have to get ready to pry her off him if she tried anything, which would be difficult when he was half-cut. But instead, she just stood there, looking at him with the sincerest expression he had ever seen surpass her features. "She loves you, Damon. She really does. You don't know how to accept that do you?"

He was at a loss for words, and this time he had no drink to aid him. His stare wandered to the bottle stood on the marble kitchen island counter while he thought about grabbing it and finishing off the whole thing, but somehow he doubted it would help.

"It's not happening." He said in a low voice. "I'm not letting it happen."

Her head tilted to one side and the emotion in her face surprised him even further. "You already have."

"What?" he asked while his instinct jumped to the worst case scenario and his heart seemed to ache with desperate hope that it wasn't true.

"I wasn't lying when I told you it wasn't me handing her over. She was to be collected."

"When?" He demanded with a growl and a face like thunder. She lifted her wrist to look at her silver watch and he did the same. It was 9:37pm.

"It's already done."

His heart relocated into his stomach and her words slapped him across the face, then continued to do so as he replayed them over and over, wondering if they'd been heard correctly. This had just happened right under his nose? How? No one could determine that he would leave the apartment, and ultimately leave Elena vulnerable, which was in a twisted way, exactly what she had wanted. His head was spinning, and he couldn't find anything stable to lean on. But he needed to. He needed to snap out of it, he needed to regain his strength and focus. For Elena. She needed him; he had to get to her.

"No." He shook his head then went to move around her. Katherine quickly stopped him with a soft yet firm grasp on his upper arm that screamed desperation. Why? Because she needed to keep him there? Was this part of the plan? Keep him distracted? Such theories fed his belief that she may not have gone yet, and that was the reason Katherine needed to keep him here. There was still a chance. There _had_ to be.

"It's too late, Damon."

It was words he didn't want to hear. So he put them aside, choosing to believe otherwise.

Damon yanked his arm free, not caring if he hurt her in the process, and fought the urge to scold her like she was a small child right there and now. But he could deal with Katherine later, right now; he needed to get to Elena. Therefore, he shot her a look of repugnance then turned and rushed from the apartment, his limbs, his adrenaline, his _everything_ running on the frantic, and possibly wasted hope that she would be there, in his apartment waiting for him to come back. But his gut told him he should know better than that. He bolted across the landing and down the steps with movements so quick it surprised him. He welcomed the cold chill of the night air as he reached outside and furthermore relished in the whipping of it around him as he set off running in the direction of his apartment, with only one thing in his mind; Elena.

He weaved around obstacles; people, lampposts, bins, the usual things cluttering the streets of New York while managing to remain full speed on his legs. He could practically hear the blood pumping in his ears; he felt the pain in both legs as he ran without mercy and the gathering sweat on every part of his skin. One thing was for sure; it was lucky he kept fit.

Turning into his building and bounding through the door, he thanked his lucky stars that he chose a building that didn't require you to be _let _in rather than just walk in. It was pretty reckless for the rest of the time, but right now, it was a gift from a higher power. He took the steps two at a time, realizing the pain in his muscles now that he'd slowed down enough. Still, he had to keep going. He rushed along the landing, and not bothering to pick out his key to unlock the door, he banged on the wood with both fists, hoping and praying she was there to open it. Because if she wasn't, and Frank had her, what would he do?

There was a stab in his heart, forcing him to quickly push aside such thinking. He couldn't right now.

He continued banging and when the door was pulled open to reveal the thing he'd been looking for, now and for his entire life, stood there, he let out a breath he'd been unaware of holding.

His eyes traced her face, finding the emotion he felt within; fear.

Two large steps forward, and he was there, wrapping his arms around her, his heaving chest moving erratically against hers. She returned the embrace, her hands taking a firm place on each of his shoulder blades and her nose burying in his chest.

After a few moments, Damon pulled back, but didn't let go. His hands went to her upper arms as she took his neck in hers.

"Thank God." He breathed. "I thought you'd gone... I thought I was too late, but you're here, I made it." His breathing was ragged and his clutch on her was one of need and relief.

"Damon,"

"I made it." He smiled wide and tried to calm the wild beat of his heart whilst his hands ran up to her shoulders, her neck, then back again.

"Damon," Elena tried again.

"I made it." It was a whisper this time, and his eyes finally went to hers. They were glazed over with unshed tears and revealed a slight different emotion than the one he'd seen moments ago. It was more like dread this time.

"Damon," and there was a shake in her voice. "I have to go, now."

"No, no, you don't." both the shake of his head and the tone of his voice was frantic, he enveloped one of her hands that remained on the side of his neck, and held on, with no intention of letting go.

"Damon, I have to go." She tried to reason.

"No." He said with a strength that failed to match his face. It was broken. He _felt_ broken. He felt as though he was being torn apart just at the idea of her leaving, going to him, and there being no certainty, no assurance that she would come back, that he would see her again. He couldn't allow that to happen.

She visibly softened and his hand returned to her upper-arm, his palm and fingers running up the silk of her flesh until finding her shoulder once again, where he pushed the thick flow of her chocolate curls to run down her back instead then let his fingertips traced the bow of her neck.

"I have to go." She revealed even softer than before with her eyes shut tight as her hands moved around to tangle in the ends of his hair. She leant up until their foreheads touched, leaving him no choice but to close his own eyes and just simply breathe her in. Her scent, the warmth of her skin, the sweetness of her breath that sprang from her parted lips in laboured breaths.

"This isn't goodbye, alright?" she said with thick emotion and her hold on him tightened.

Damon nodded, his forehead rubbing against hers. What? Why was he nodding? He came here to stop her from making this fatal mistake, not agree to it. "This is a 'see you soon'."

She pulled away and slipped around him, but he quickly reached out and stopped her. "Just wait a minute, just a minute." He was grasping at straws, it was the only thing he could do. "We can figure this out."

Her head shook softly and he placed her hand to his chest, his own still holding it. "Together, we can figure something out. We could leave; we can go anywhere you want, anywhere."

"Please don't ask me to run, I won't do that."

"But I am asking. I'm begging you _not _to do this."

"Damon-

She attempted to pry her hand away and was once again intercepted. He pressed her hand tighter against the hard bone of his sternum, using it as leverage to step closer to her.

"Damon, I can't do this right now."

"Then when can you 'do this'? When you're in the morgue? When you're dead, lain out on a cold silver table and I have to come and identify your body, is that when we can do this?" His exclaim was aggressive and his words were harsh, and he didn't know which made her flinch. Maybe both.

"Damon please-

"Damn it, listen to me!" He yelled. "You saw the file! You _know _what's about to happen. We both do, so don't you feed me this crap about this not being a goodbye, because that's exactly what it is. If you walk out that door, and you go to him, this will be the last time we see each other."

The thought of it was excruciating enough, never mind actually saying it out loud. It made him sick to his stomach.

"He's not going to back down from this; he's not going to let it go. He's sick, and he's twisted. And he's going to do to you what he did to the rest."

"Which is why I can't run." Elena told him.

"So you'd rather _die_ instead?"

"I have to go."

He watched her turn her head and followed her gaze to the now opened door where Niklaus Smith, Frank's right-handed man, stood. _When had that happened?_ However, Damon couldn't say he was surprised. Niklaus, or 'Klaus' as he insisted, had been in the mix for months now; playing the part of Frank's oh so loyal lap-dog. Why _wouldn't _he be willing to pick up women to be sentenced at Frank's request? _Had everyone gone insane?_ Seems so.

Damon shot him a look of death while still holding on to Elena's hand. "So you're the delivery man?"

Klaus chuckled but gave no reply.

"Well, you can tell Frank this 'package' is going nowhere."

"Come, Elena. Frank doesn't like to be kept waiting." Klaus urged silkily with his thick English accent, ignoring Damon's comment.

Damon marked the fear flash in her warm brown eyes as she turned back to face him, but it soon disappeared.

"Hey, listen to me." He beckoned. "I love you. I am _so_ in love with you. I will do anything you need me to, anything you want, I'll do it. You want Frank dealt with? I'll do that. You want to leave here? I will do that; I will leave everything behind, for you. I will do anything for you."

She shook her head and smiled sadly. "What I want, what I need... is for you to be safe. I want a future, I want us. I want a life where I don't have to worry about looking over my shoulder in case Frank's there. I don't want to have to worry about what he might do to you, or to Caroline, because that's the only way he can hurt me now. Most of all, I want to give you a life you deserve to have, whether I'm in it or not." She frowned at the last few words and he could tell she was uncomfortable with the thought as much as he was.

He opened his mouth to say something that was fuelled by anger and frustration, but she stopped him. The pads of her fingers were on his lips, and her eyes... they portrayed something he had only ever seen there, in these beautiful pair of doe eyes, and nowhere else. It was love, adoration. And it was her drinking him in, as if she was planting him in her memory.

Then his stare was caught by the movement of her mouth. She was mouthing something to him, but before he could register it, all of a sudden, she moved to one side, taking both hands from him and Damon zoned in on the black handgun Klaus had aimed straight at him. He wanted to look to Elena for answers, but dragging his eyes from the gun currently aimed at him was apparently an impossible task.

He watched Klaus's finger contract, and waited for the startling bang that was bound to come, that would be followed by a body-trembling shock contrary to any prior expectancies or preparation. He didn't know if it would hurt, or where it would hit, but by the look of things, he'd guess the chest. But to his utter surprise, none of it came to pass.

There was no bang, or a bullet penetrating his chest. There was only an almost soundless flit through the air and with a natural lower of his gaze to the sudden sting in his chest; he discovered a small dart had pierced it. _A dart? _He frowned. What the hell would a dart suffice?

Then it clicked. _Tranquilizer._ It was a tranquilizer dart.

They knew he wouldn't let her go without a fight, and this was the solution. Have him sedated, knocked out for a few hours so he couldn't intervene. This was bad. This was out of his hands now. And though he was determined that he would fight the coming effects, another part of him was certain it was no use.

Then he felt her. She was there, in front of him, her fingers on his chest, the one set remaining there while the other took hold of the small dart and pulled it from its embedment in the many layers of skin. Damon hissed then tried his best to gain focus

"Elena... w-

He failed to finish while fighting his hardest against the coming darkness. It was closing in on him, it was about to swallow him up, and he had nothing to hold onto, nothing that would keep him from being submerged into unconsciousness. Still, he desperately tried to fight. Because if he lost this battle, it meant there was a huge chance he would never see Elena again. And that was something he couldn't allow.

His legs crumpled and he fell forward. Elena caught him around the waist and with a struggle, lowered both their bodies to the ground. Her knee was wedged between his and her hands clutched either side of his waist, holding him upright.

"Elena, don't- don't... don't do this." A weak shake of his head was all he could muster.

She leaned forward until her lips grazed his ear. "Trust me."

Then everything went black.


	27. Chapter 27

**AN: **I TOOK SO LONG with this chapter! I just couldnt seem to find any inspiration, and I've been sorting out my life basically! Shorter than the last one, I know. But it had to be. It was longer, but I decided it was better that I spread it out. So the next one is half done. Which is the last one! eek. Let me know what you think, review etc etc, it means so much to me! Thanks for taking interest in this story and all the kinds reviews. You make my day. xxxx

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><p><strong>27<strong>

_"And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't. So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road. And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope, it's a shot in the dark and right at my throat."_ – **Florence & the Machine.**

Elena's pain-filled scream pierced the empty, undecorated building as the blade was dragged along her fore-arm, slicing open the flesh almost effortlessly and allowing blood to seep from it. Her toes curled inside her black boots and her fingers clutched the arm of the wooden chair she was tied to. Bound at ankles, wrists and her waist, she was going nowhere.

The wounds burned against the air, and the overwhelming awareness she had of them niggled at her. He had only sliced her in exactly three places so far; one on her right forearm, another on her left and the third just below her shoulder. She lifted her head, her thick mass of curls hanging in her face. Not being able to push the hair from your face? _Now that was annoying. _

She watched Frank prowl back and forth in front of her, the knife secured in his one hand while the other toyed with the point of the shiny blade. He was just getting started, she knew that.

This was what she had been expecting. It was what she'd been told would happen. He would torture her for his pleasure, but he wouldn't be the one to kill her. _No_, he was too much of a coward for that. She looked at him with distaste, even in the state she was in, and he chuckled.

"You always were _so _feisty." He took her chin in his fingers, tilting it upwards. "Is that what he loves about you?"

The reminder of Damon brought a pain to her chest but she kept her emotions in check. She wouldn't show any emotion. Not here, not now. In this room, in front of him, she had no weakness.

Snatching her chin from his grasp and keeping her glare perfectly intact, she forced Damon to the back of her mind. She couldn't think of him, it would break her down. That she couldn't afford to happen. She had to stay strong, 'strong like an Amazon', like her father used to tell her.

"It's certainly what I liked the best about you, what kept you around for so long."

"Because that's what your _wife _was like?" she spat.

Surprise altered his smug expression, but only momentarily. "Someone's been doing their homework."He smiled, and his gaze dropped back down to the knife in his hand. "And it's _ex _wife, if you want to get technical."

Elena scoffed and turned her head away from him. He approached her once more, and took her chin again, forcing her to look up at him. "Always so strong." She could've sworn there was wonder in his voice. "I wonder if it'll still be there when I'm done with you." He held up the bloodied knife and waggled it back and forth.

She watched him scan the rest of her body, and realized he was choosing the next spot to cut. Her toes curled painfully in dreading anticipation. She took a deep breath that was barely audible and he applied the blade to her jean-clad leg. She gritted her teeth and waited. He wouldn't do it quickly, that fact she'd caught on to by the second occasion he dragged it torturously slow across her flesh. He made sure it lasted. That she felt every movement as it sliced through the skin.

He pushed down more forcefully this time, ensuring the blade succeeding in cutting through the material of her jeans before it met with her skin. When it did, she let out only a whimper, though a sob was desperate to escape.

Obviously displeased with this, Frank forced the knife even deeper. She grasped the arms of the wooden chair she was bound to and hung her head. Her legs jerked involuntarily and she prayed for it to either stop, or for the strength to endure such pain.

She gasped and lifted her head. Her whole body was tensed, and she couldn't let go. All she could do was stare up at him with an expression harder than concrete.

"Deep enough?" He asked with a menacing smile. There was a single beat then he was pulling the knife across, slicing, cutting, damaging her. Elena cried out. It was one of pain, and torment, and a wordless plea for someone to save her.

He paused, and she sagged. She would've liked to have thought it was his way of giving her a rest, but it wasn't. It was just him teasing her with the idea of being relieved. Something he wasn't about to grant her any time soon.

Another gasp came from her and tears fell from her eyes as he continued forcing it through the layers of skin. She couldn't bear to watch, she couldn't do anything but hold on for dear life as he headed for the finish line. Her head was light, and her vision foggy. _Was she going to pass out?_ She wondered, and in a way, hoped for it. It was the longest seconds of her life, and it seemed as though she aged in them. One last drag and it was retrieved.

She opened her mouth and gasped for the air she hadn't allowed into her lungs for the entire time the knife cut into her and along with it came a frustrated grunt. Her cheeks were wet from the few fallen tears but no more followed.

She allowed her muscles the release they needed, as well as the wood her fingers dug into.

Her eyes remained locked on Frank. "I hate you, _so much._" She ground out.

Frank merely chuckled. It was that same malicious, arrogant chuckle that made her skin crawl. "That's what they all say. But soon, you're going to be begging to go back to the life I gave you." He hovered over her. "You'll cry, you'll plead, you'll bargain. You'll promise that you'll come back, do whatever I say, just as long as I stop... _this._" His hand lashed out, then reformed into a fist, and made a cruel collide with her jaw.

With the force of his hit and the harsh whip of her head to the side, she half-expected the chair to topple over with her still attached to it, but it remained upright. He grabbed roughly at her jaw, triggering a pained hiss, and turned her back to face him.

Elena kept her face hard, even as his clutch on her became painful. "And this." Then he moved the hand that still held the knife and with one quick movement - the quickest she'd experienced him do - he cut her open at her undamaged shoulder.

She reflexively shut her eyes tight and cried out.

"Bastard." She dragged in air and let her eyes reopen.

And the chuckle returned. "There's that fire again." He drew closer, their faces only inches apart. "Let's see what we can do about that."

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><p>Damon forced open his eyelids and groaned. Face downwards, he felt the cold wood of the floor underneath him, and with hazed focus, he forced his mind back to what had happened, why the hell he was on the floor, and why his head felt like someone had been sitting on it for hours on end.<p>

His eyes shot open wide. _Elena._

He pushed himself up off the floor and a sharp pain coursed through his head. He groaned loudly, and scrambled to a stand.

With a swift rotation of his body on the spot, he took in his surroundings. The apartment door was still open, but the apartment was empty. Of course it was. What else had he been expecting? To wake up to find her still here, that she'd tell him it was all just a practical joke and she'd just had him knocked unconscious for the fun of it? No, that was just stupid.

Something lain on the floor caught his attention. _The dart._

He bent, took it between his thumb and forefinger and stood. His brow furrowed and his free hand lifted to rest on his pectoral. It didn't hurt, just felt... uncomfortable.

Then as if it had arrived late, came panic. He scanned the apartment once more, this time with an edge of hysteria. Elena was gone, she was gone. He had no way of finding where she was, or if she was even anywhere to be found anymore. The thought hit him, hard.

What could he do? He was helpless.

Then his gun sprung to mind. He bounded towards the bed, rounded it, and pulled open the top drawer of his bed-side table. Gone, it was gone. Staring into the drawer now only occupied with his other silver watches, he frowned. How? How could it be gone? The only other person who knew about that gun was himself, Stefan, and... _Elena_. A newfound hope ran through him. She was armed. She had his gun.

He looked towards the door, and deciding he wasn't going to do any use just standing here, he dropped the dart and rushed out of the apartment.

What was he going to do?

He had no lead, no first step to finding her. He had nothing.

He ran out onto the street, looking down either side of the street for some unknown reason. And it dawned on him.

_Katherine._

She would know. She _had_ to know.

He set off down the street running, slower than he was capable since he was still groggy from his previous forced state of unconsciousness. Still he pushed harder, forcing his limbs to get him there quicker. God knows how long he'd been out for, how long she'd been in the hands of a proven lunatic. He had to catch up. He had to get to her.

His muscles burned and he felt he might collapse if he didn't catch his breath soon. But he was almost there. He could see the apartment building, and it was for certain that he wasn't planning on stopping. Not for anything. Not for his frantically beating heart or the intense pain in his side.

He bolted into the building, up the stairs and began banging on the door he once used to knock in search for Elena.

No answer.

He banged harder, not caring about the sting it caused against his knuckles.

Still no answer.

He blew out angrily, ran both hands through his midnight hair, taking no notice of the rumple sounding from within his jacket, and then landed upon an idea. He could break in. This was a matter of dire importance. In a way, it's exactly the right thing to do. Deciding to not contemplate it any further, he took a step back and braced himself. He moved back towards it, lifted a leg and with profound force, kicked at the wood of the door. He heard it groan in protest and backed away for the second time, taking another breath of preparation. He repeated his attacks against it, each time harder than the last, until it finally flung open for him. Charging through, he whipped his head around, discovering no one to be home.

"Katherine?" He shouted out.

No answer, obviously. What, had he thought she wouldn't come rushing out, demanding he explain his attempt at breaking in the moment he started kicking at her door?

Of course Katherine wasn't here; thinking anything different was stupid of him. But alas, he was desperate. And that's the only thing he was running on right now.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it._

His hands went up to run through his hair once more. It triggered the rumple in his jacket that he chose to ignore again as he was side-tracked by the sound of his cell phone reminding him that there was something that required his attention. Shoving a hand into the pocket of his jeans, he pulled the device out, and brought it to life with a click of the unlock button.

_One new message._ The screen told him.

Quickly, he clicked onto his messages, his heart jumping into his throat in hope that it was from Elena, or Katherine. But of course, it was from neither. Instead, it was from an unknown number.

Unknown? Exactly _four_ people had his number; there was no possibility for an unknown number to contact him.

Frowning, he opened it up and discovered an address.

His lips curved into a small smile that didn't touch his eyes. It was them, he knew it. Either Katherine or Elena, his gut told him. But his best guess would be Katherine.

He reread the address, realizing he had not once set a foot in the direction of Brooklyn Heights. All he did know was that it was over the bridge.

He exited the apartment in rushed yet graceful movements, retook the stairs and returned onto the street in no time. But this time, he wasn't planning on running. He hailed a cab, and one slowed to a stop in front of him. Not missing a beat, he climbed into the back.

"Hey, hey!" he called through the glass window without patience. "You know this address?" he held up the phone, pressed the screen to the window and watched the cab drivers brown eyes scan the address.

"Yes, yes." He replied in his foreign tongue. "Abandoned,"

"Abandoned?"

"Yes, abandoned… uh, building… factory."

"Right, of course. How long?" he demanded.

"To Brooklyn Heights? Uh… ten minutes."

"Make it five."

Returning his phone to the pocket of his jeans, he sat back whilst the driver pulled off.

Anxious, his feet tapped against the floor of the cab and his fingers drummed against his bouncing knee.

What he hadn't considered was the possibility that this text, this address wasn't from the person he so desperately needed it to be. What if it was a trap? Well, if it was, and it was one elicited from Frank himself, then maybe, _just maybe_, he was on his way to Elena right now. And he had every intention of saving her. Even though she had his gun, there was still a range of possibilities that things could go completely wrong. And that sent another unbearable jolt of worry through him.

What if all this was wasted? What if he was too late?

No. _No._ He admonished the creeping thought. He couldn't think like that. It seemed to threaten to rob all the air from him, or snatch his beating heart right out of his chest, and he couldn't afford to have that happen right now.

He wasn't aware of how long he sat there, waiting for the cab to pull to a stop at the given destination, but with the thoughts running wild through his mind, and the fight he put up with them in order to stay sane, felt as though it'd been hours.

When it finally stopped, he briefly acknowledged where he was then dug out money from his wallet and haphazardly tossed it through the opened window between him and the driver before jumping from the car.

* * *

><p>Elena shifted in the chair. "You think people won't figure out what you did?" her voice was small, weak, exhausted. Her head hung as she yielded no strength to hold it up, and her hair created a curtain in front of her face. "I go missing, the first place they're going to look, is at you."<p>

Frank half-heartedly chuckled and she lifted her head, her hair falling from her face. "Well, lucky for me, the only people who actually care about you, who know you're back in the city, have left."

"Damon hasn't-

"Oh but he will." Frank confirmed with arrogance. "Once he has nothing to stay for."

She had to once again convince herself that it wouldn't come to that, that she wouldn't die here, but it took a lot more effort than it did at the beginning. The confidence she had in the plan had waned, and was replaced with the acceptance that this may be where she spends the last moments of her life. Maybe she'd been stupid to think they could outsmart Frank. The cuts on her body certainly thought so.

Frank approached her. "You see, I always make sure there's no trail that could lead to me. So, of course, when Katherine offered me you in exchange for her and Damon's freedom, well, I couldn't pass it up."

"All the girls before... well, they had no-one, therefore I had no-one I had to get rid of. But you..." he used the knife to point at her. "You just couldn't leave things be, could you, your blonde-haired friend and your... _lover-boy_, even after I told you to stay away." She almost winced at the amount of aggression he used on his reference to Damon. She watched him close the distance between them again and reach out to drag the cool metal of the knife along the line of her jaw.

Elena gulped down the uneasiness her body still created in response to the weapon being held against her delicate skin then opened her dry mouth to ask what she'd found difficult to get her head around for the last five years. "What happened to you?"

Frank's brow creased and he slowly retreated.

"What made you like this?" She murmured, too exhausted to put any force into her words. "Your wife, a bad childhood experience? What?"

A chuckle escaped him but she was certain it was forced. "Is this what you expect, what you want before I… _end_ you? A heart to heart?"

"I think you owe me as much." She returned, trying her hardest not to think about her 'ending'.

"And why is that?"

"Because for five years, I stayed by your side." She averred, painfully exhausted. "I was loyal to you… I kept my word, and I stayed. Out of obligation, gratitude, or fear, it doesn't matter. I was there. And I don't care what you say, or what you do to me, or what you did to all the girls before me, because all of it, the manipulating them into feeling like they owe you, like they have no other option but to stay with you, the hitting, the threats, is all because you don't want to be alone, you can't _bear _it, can you?"

His expression frighteningly hardened and he lashed out with the knife, this time slicing the flesh of her face. Surprise still overwhelmed her and a whimper still spilled from her mouth.

"It won't change anything, you know?" she called after him as he walked away. "It doesn't matter how many of us you kill, we're not her. As soon as I'm gone, that craving, that need to have some brown-haired girl to push around and control, it'll be back,"

"Shut up." He growled.

"Why can't you go straight to the source of your pain, Frank?" she willed strength into her voice though it felt nearly impossible.

"Shut up." He ordered more forcefully.

"Is it because you're a coward?" she spat.

"I said, shut up!" he reclosed the distance between them and swung the back of his hand at her cheek. The slap pierced her ears and stung the already prior damaged flesh of her cheek. She forced a chuckle then twisted her neck back to face him.

"Feel better?"

He leaned over her, domineering and intimidating. "I will when you're _dead._"

"Or maybe when she is," she offered with a smirk and a cock of her head. "But you're too much of a coward for that aren't you? To face her, to do to her what you do to the rest of us. Because she makes you feel weak? Impotent, emasculated? Because you loved her, because you still do."

She watched the anger increase on his face, in his eyes, the more she spoke, the more she twisted the imaginary knife in his heart.

"Did you feel _weak, _and _stupid, _for loving her more than she loved you?"

She was running on what little strength she had left, but it was enough. "And did it make you _sick_ to realize you still loved her, even after she left you, betrayed you, and threw your love back in your face?"

"Did you wait every day, hoping, wishing she'd come back?" she was mocking him, and a warning was going off in her head. She should stop, but she wouldn't. Couldn't. She was being hand-fed by the part of her that'd been smothered for five years. And it wasn't planning on stopping.

"But she didn't come back did she, Frank? And when you finally got that into your thick skull, you went out, and you found a young, vulnerable girl with hair and eyes similar to the woman who burned you." She was flushed with temper. Her exhaustion and pained body long forgotten as she stared up at a man on the verge of snapping, but she relished in it, she welcomed it. "You think that justifies it?" she shouted. "It doesn't. You're a sick, manipulative bastard with enough blood on your hands to fill this entire room. And I, personally, can't wait till they put you down."

He lunged at her, knife still in hand and held the point only an inch from her face. "You think I won't kill you?" he snarled.

"I think you're a scared, insecure little boy who only finds strength in knocking around women." She said dryly. "But you don't finish the job, do you, Frank? No, you leave that to the real men."

He ran the sharp, cool point down her cheek, not hard enough to cut the skin. "This won't save you." He told her in a soft voice. "You were dead the moment I picked you out."

"Then be a man," she swallowed down the fear rising in her stomach. "And kill me yourself."

Then he smiled, wide and wicked. It made her insides quiver.

"Niklaus," his dark menacing eyes remained on her, as did the knife.

A door opening caused a shift in Elena's gaze. Boots connected with the stone floor over and over until they reached their goal. Frank straightened and took a step back. "It's time."

A gun was lifted in one hand and the trigger held for a beat before it was pulled.

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><p>The slam of the car door rattled and set him off running. The area surrounding the large factory-like building was completely deserted and utterly untaken care of.<p>

Obviously, Damon thought. Frank couldn't have the cries heard.

In a blind panic he ran, all thoughts of Elena taking up his mind. What if he was too late? God, he couldn't think of that. If he did, it'd paralyse him. He spotted movement but kept running, his boots pushing through the long malnourished field of grass. Only when his eyes caught the flap of long brown hair in the wind did he stop. But she was still so far away.

It was her, he knew it. It had to be.

With careful movements she strolled from the side of the building to the front. Then she found him.

Damon set off towards her again, this time settling into a fast walk instead of a punishing run.

It wasn't her, it wasn't Elena. He could see the moment he got close enough. She wasn't wearing the clothes she'd been wearing when she left him a few hours ago, and the rich, beautiful necklace hung from her neck. It was Katherine.

She looked shaken, and in an odd way, relieved to see him. But as soon as he gained on her, both had disappeared. "Where is she?" he demanded.

She looked at him, mournfully. "Damon,"

The way she said his name set him on edge. And his mind wanted to prepare him for the worst.

"Where is she?"

He looked towards the building, refusing to meet that look in her black eyes. When she said nothing, he took a step to move around her but she intercepted it.

Their bodies bumped but his eyes remained on the door he was looking to approach.

"Damon," her hands came up to push lightly at his chest. He grabbed hold of her arm, and heard the leather crunch as he forced her one hand away and the other automatically dropped back to her side. She looked up at him, pained.

"Where is she, Katherine?" his tone was dark and threatening. But he could think of nothing but getting to Elena, finding her safe.

Then two words that had the ability to crush him fell from Katherine's lips. "I'm sorry."


	28. Chapter 28

**28**

"Feel like I'm trying to breathe underwater, trying to climb but I keep falling farther. Will you take my hand? Feels so far away, I want to see your face. Are you even there? Can you show me? Can you make me believe? I need to know." – **Kris Allen.**

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><p>A wave of nausea hit him full force and his heart stopped. His neck slanted then just as quickly returned to place. He swallowed, hard. But the lump refused to be forced down. It was choking him. "You're sorry for what?" the question barely made it out.<p>

"I was too late." She revealed.

"Too late?" he choked.

She only nodded.

He stepped away, afraid he would burn under the influence of his thoughts. "But you- you had a plan." Anger now clouded him. He stepped towards her again and grabbed her.

She let out a yelp of pain then hissed as his grip on each of her arms tightened until they could go no more.

"You're hurting me."

"You told me you had a plan."

"I did!" she exclaimed, trying her best to wiggle free but it only seemed to put her in more pain. So, she gave up. "But she wound him up, she played with him, she pissed him off, so he had her killed quicker."

His eyes lifted. Emotion shining bright as he refused once again to look at her. "Klaus?"

She nodded.

He let go and slipped around her. Knowing what he was about to do, her hand shot out to snag his wrist. "You can't. He's dead."

He frowned. The wild, excruciating pain suffocated him, he couldn't breathe, couldn't process. Was this really happening?

"Elijah." She explained.

"And Frank?"

"The same,"

Damon nodded, pursed his lips and did an erratic shake of his head, hoping it would rid of the gut wrenching pain in his head, his heart, then turned. "I have to see her."

She stopped him again, whirled him around on the spot to face her. "You can't. We have to go." Panic had etched into her voice.

He frowned again, finding his senses hazed over by a pit of grief. "Go? Go where?" he asked with outrage.

"We just have to go." She emphasized with a tug at his arm. He remained on the spot. "Damon,"

She was scared. Why, he had to wonder.

It seemed he couldn't accept what she was telling him. He needed to see it for himself. He had to see her. One last time, he had to.

He turned to move again, ignoring her protests. She soon caught up, her boots colliding noisily with the ground. Her hands, fingers spread, pushed against his shoulders once she stood in front of him again and he halted.

"Damon, please. We have to go." He watched her scan their surroundings then turn back to him, her eyes desperate. "It's not safe here."

"Not safe? Frank is dead, Klaus is dead. You just told me that."

"You think Frank wouldn't have some insurance? He planned everything down to a tee, Damon. We don't know that someone isn't coming here right now," she whipped her head around again. "If they aren't already,"

Damon scoffed in disgust and attempted a move.

"There's nothing in there anymore for you, Damon." Her fingers closed over the shoulders of his shirt. Her black eyes overran with emotion. "She's gone. You won't find her; it's just a body now."

The words knocked him breathless, mostly because it was the truth. What he was looking for, what he hoped to find, wasn't there. She wasn't there. She was gone. For the rest of his life, she'd be gone. He wouldn't get to touch her, see her laugh. She was just gone. Everything… was gone.

The idea latched onto his neck, and squeezed. He stepped back. Felt the want in his legs to give away.

Katherine reached out, grabbed him by his shirt to steady him. "We have to go."

She tugged him along towards the parked jeep Damon hadn't noticed when he arrived. She pulled open the door and persuaded him inside. Seconds later, she climbed into the driver's seat, slammed the door and started the engine.

Damon sat, barely aware or alert. He felt blank, he felt numb. Realization had shaken him to his very core, plunged him into a deep pit of nothing and he saw no way of climbing out. Absently he twisted his neck to look at the woman who so much resembled the one who owned his heart, and who was now dead.

How could it be? That only hours ago he had seen her, touched her with desperation whilst he held the knowledge that she was leaving. Now, now… she was just gone. Gone. How? How could everything she was, disappear? Everything he thought they would be. A future he'd wanted, the love he'd had for her. It was all just a memory, a 'could have been'. She was just a memory now. All because he'd failed her.

A single tear fell, ran the length of his cheek. He was drowning in despair, and held no idea on how to find a release, how to breathe anymore. How could he do this? Live, without her? He didn't know. He barely recalled what he was before she came along. He was nothing. He felt nothing. And now, he was back there.

He couldn't face that. Not after her, not after what they'd shared.

It was too cruel a fate to live without her. For almost a year, she'd been the centre of his universe. Now, that space was empty. Everything… was empty.

"I want to know what happened." He asked suddenly.

Katherine dashed him a sideways glance and shifted both hands further up the wheel.

"I wasn't there."

"Then where were you exactly?" he snapped.

"I had orders to stay outside." She simply returned.

"Orders?" she winced at the rise in his voice. He was angry, and looking for someone to blame. "You stood outside there, while he killed her. You did nothing!"

Her cool composure remained and it made him even angrier.

"Did she cry? Did she scream? Did she beg for help?" his voice tightened but continued to leave his mouth in a shout. "Did she call for you? Did she expect you to save her? And you stood outside and _did nothing!"_

"Stop it!"

Silence was earned. All he did was glare at her, anger pumping through his body. She shifted her hands again, allowing the tension in her knuckles a rest.

"You think it was easy?" she shot him a look then refocused on the road ahead. "It wasn't. It was hard." Her voice broke. Making a quick, forced recovery, she took a breath and wet her lips.

"She didn't cry," she said. "She didn't call for help. She was strong, stronger than- she wasn't scared. Not even a little bit."

He wasn't certain if it was the truth or just an assurance, a lie that would make it easier to deal with. If she had been afraid, if she'd screamed for him, it would tear him apart. Obviously Katherine knew that.

"How- how did he..." his eyes dropped to his lap.

"Shot,"

"Where?"

"Damon, I don't think you-

"Where?" He demanded harsher than before and his head snapped up.

"The head,"

"She didn't suffer," it had the texture of a question but it wasn't one.

"No, she didn't suffer."

They fell into silence and remained that way until the sky completely darkened and the amount of roads they'd travelled on were too many to count.

Damon stared absently out the window, not caring where they were, or where they were going. He hadn't even asked he realised. Nor did he have any means to. He closed his eyes, felt a small relief to the throbbing in his head before slowly falling to sleep.

"_Damon," a hand on his bare shoulder shook him partially awake. "Damon,"_

_He groaned, reluctant and petulant. The hand shook him harder, forced him to roll over and open his gritty eyes. _

_There Elena sat, cross-legged and impatient on top of the rumpled sheets of his bed. Beautiful, was all he could think._

_He couldn't stop the smirk, then rebuffed with a fake scoff before turning back over. "You're still here? Don't you take a hint?"_

_She chuckled and he relished in the angelic tinkle of it. He felt the bed move multiple times, and a shot of fear ran through him. She wouldn't just leave would she?_

_Turning his head, he discovered to his relief she'd crawled her way up to him. Hovering above him with a smile that showed her perfect white teeth while her chocolate hair curtained down, as if creating some sort of safe haven for only them, the sight of her made him quiver inside. "We both know if I even made an attempt to leave, you'd try to stop me."_

"_Is that a challenge?" he asked._

_She shrugged her one shoulder then leant down to place a soft kiss to his lips. "Do you want it to be?"_

_His hands came up to hold her face. "Mm-hmm." _

_He moved to take her lips again but she reared back. "Alright,"_

_She clambered off the bed, the shirt of his rising up to reveal the clean underwear she'd obviously slipped on after her morning shower. It made him want to groan. He shifted up onto his elbows, watching her with interest._

_She grabbed her light blue jeans from the chair to the side of the bed, tugged them on with her back still to him. Picking up her top once she let his shirt crumple to the floor, she shrugged into it. Then he moved, let the sheet fall from his naked body and hooked an arm around her waist and with hardly any effort, pulled her back to him. _

_She squealed at the surprise and continued to laugh as he shifted her body under his. Her lips were parted, pulling in shallow breaths. Her eyes wide, hungry and happy, her cheeks flushed. _

"_I win." She said, breathless. He cocked an eyebrow, reached up with his fingers to push the stray hairs from her face then let them settle on her cheek. _

_He captured her lips, in the sweet and alluring way that made her sigh with content. His tongue ran along hers, earning him a soft moan, his hand that wasn't trapped underneath her shoulders travelled down over her breast, settled on the gap between her jeans and top. It slivered up, mixing with the flesh of her stomach while successfully pushing up her top. Aiding him, she leant up and allowed his arm free along with the ability to pull her top off. Her legs parted for him to nestle between._

_His lips went to her throat, providing it with the licks and bites he knew riled her up. Her legs tightened on either side of his hips and her fingers tug into his back. _

_Sliding down her body, his hand worked on undoing her jeans while his tongue ran a line between her breasts. She gasped._

"_Don't leave." He suddenly murmured against her silken flesh. _

_Distracted and obviously forgotten anything prior, she peered down at him. "What?"_

_He lifted his head, caught her gaze then climbed back up her body. "Don't leave." He said more clearly this time. _

_She reached up, ran her fingers through his hair. "I won't."_

He woke, disorientated. Then it hit him; the present, the reality. It choked him, sent a dagger to his heart. The worst thing he could've done was fall asleep, especially with memories like that one creeping into his subconscious to pain him even further than he already was.

A sigh tumbled from him. "I need a drink."

"We'll get one as soon as we stop."

He turned and found the time shining on the dashboard digital clock to be 8:48pm. Where had the time gone?

His head lolled back and his eyes closed again. "I was thinking more along the lines of ten."

"Whatever you want." She murmured.

He reopened his eyes and craned his neck to look over at her, though it discomforted him to do so. He noticed her eyes continued to dart up to check the rear-view mirror on more than several occasions. Had she been doing that for entire journey? He could ask what it was she was looking for, but he doubted he'd get any honesty. There were a lot of things he could ask, but it seemed he didn't have the energy.

It pained him, yet he still looked at her. His eyes searching the side of her face, feeding his brains illusion that it was Elena, not Katherine, that she had accepted his offer to take her away. She wasn't dead, she was here, and they were driving to a place where they could be together.

Believing it, because he so desperately wanted to, he reached out, tucked her soft, silken curls behind her ear and let the pads of his fingers run along her cheek.

Her eyes instinctively shut. She even reacted to him like Elena would have. Or had that just been his imagination?

Maybe it had. Her eyes were open now, unaffected and focused on the darkness ahead.

She flicked on the indicator then turned into a side road. Following it with the headlights blazing light on the small motel situated a few yards away, she gripped the wheel as they bumped along. She pulled them to a stop and unbuckled her seatbelt.

Her body shifted in opening to him but all he did was look through the windshield.

"We should get inside." She said softly.

He nodded, released his own seatbelt and with a shove open of his door, climbed from the car. His boots crunched along the gravel and his hands crept into his jeans pockets.

He wandered through the single, white painted wooden door into reception and grunted when the light hit him. The pain he'd felt everywhere hadn't eased off in the slightest, something he hadn't been aware of in the dark of the car.

The woman behind the counter gave him a smile, and he returned one that waned dramatically in comparison.

With the reminder that he desperately craved a drink, or a dozen, he approached the desk. "Do you sell drink?"

The smile on her slightly aged face didn't falter. If he had to guess, he'd say she was almost in her forties. "No sir, we don't."

He folded his arms to lean against the cool counter. "You keep a stash though, right?"

She blushed. "No- I-

"Come on, I won't tell." He assured. "I'll even pay you for it."

"Alright." She bent to a crouch, completely disappearing from his vision then bounced back up with a bottle of Jack in her hand. And with only a quarter of it missing. Perfect.

He dug into his pocket, let a few tens fall onto the counter then snatched up the bottle the moment she set it down. Like it was an air supply when he was drowning, he unscrewed the top and took a long, painful gulp.

Katherine entered a few moments behind, a bag now secured on her shoulder and a judgemental look in her eye the moment she saw him guzzling. She approached the receptionist, her hands wringing together ferociously.

Why was she so anxious? He had to wonder. He'd never seen Katherine anxious before.

And when had she gotten the cut on her face?

"One room, miss?" the woman asked in a chipper voice.

"Two." Katherine corrected.

"For how long?"

"One night," her hand slid into her bag, pulled out a handful of notes and set them on the counter. The receptionist handed over two keys, leaned in close and whispered something Damon's hearing couldn't quite catch. Katherine responded with a half-smile, turned, with a worried look on her face, and led the way.

He kept a space between them as they walked, and when she opened the door to her own room, gestured him inside, he didn't bother to argue, just took another swig then flopped down on the bed. He gazed around the room.

"Ah, adjoining. Convenient." His lips quirked into a half smile against the rim before he swallowed down more. Funny, he'd come to the conclusion he wouldn't be able to smile for a long while.

The keys clanged against the side table as she tossed them onto it then swiftly moved towards the small window at the opposite side of the small, dingy room. She snapped both curtains shut then made the smallest gap in between to peek out of. "I think it's safe now."

"Safe?"

She turned, unzipped her leather jacket and with apparent discomfort, slipped out of it.

"Katherine, what-

He put down the bottle at his feet, rose from the bed. The V neck, long sleeved purple top she wore was seeped through with blood, so much blood.

She tugged at the hem then pulled it over her head, a soft hiss passing her lips. Before he could speak, not that he even had the ability to in that moment, she marched towards the door he assumed was the bathroom, entered and lent over the sink to gaze in the mirror, leaving the door open for him to watch. Her fingers went to her eyes, and with her thumb and forefinger she latched onto something then haphazardly tossed it aside. Then did the same with the other.

He stared at her, baffled, his head spinning. What the hell was going on?

Then with the nervousness he'd seen all the way here, she re-emerged. Standing there, her upper body naked except for a black lace bra, the flawless skin sliced in multiple places deep enough to make him cringe. Her shoulders, her arms, it hurt him to look, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Then, he saw her eyes. The warm chocolate that weakened him, the soft, loving expression, it was all there. It knocked him back on his feet and robbed his breath.

"I meant it when I said I wouldn't leave."

He felt the words reach in his chest, grasp his heart and tug fiercely. "I know I already broke that promise once," she started towards him then stopped when his hand lifted. "I didn't plan on doing it again."

"I don't- I don't understand." He found he could barely speak over the huge lump clogging his throat. She took a few small steps forward. Caution and fear surrounded her on every step.

"I don't understand…" he said again. Frowning, he dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor, his head throbbing much too painfully to look at her any longer. He wasn't sure if he'd blinked for a whole minute. He shook his head, hoping to force in sense, or reality, then lifted it to look at her beautiful, bruised face again. How hadn't he noticed all these things before? Did grief truly blind you? "Is this a dream?"

God, he hoped it wasn't. She shook a 'no' with her head.

"You…" he searched her face then choked out what he feared to believe for even a second, "You're here."

Tear glazed her eyes. "I'm here." Her voice was hitched and it caused the pain in his heart to grow.

"You're here." True happiness filled him, a smile and a single tear came. He took her head in his heads, his fingers skimming the silk of her hair.

"How-

She cut him off with a finger to his lips. "I'll tell you everything. Everything you want to know. First, could you just…" her face broke and tears fell recklessly down each cheek. "Just hold me."

She moved into him, her arms going under his to grasp at the back of his shirt and her face burying into his chest. She shook violently against him and sobs so pain-filled dragged from her chest he feared what had happened in that empty building. His arms enveloped her and his lips went to the crown of her head.

Was this even real? An hour ago, he'd believed this was gone. Now, she was here, in his arms, crying. He feared to truly be convinced by it. If he should, he didn't know if he could deal if it turned out it was all a dream. His hand went up to cradle the back of her head for a few moments before she pulled back.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't know how to- all the way here… I just wanted... but she told me, she said I had to follow through with the plan until we got here because they had to believe it, they had to believe I was Katherine." She gasped for air and her head shook before she returned to the place above his heart.

"I couldn't, I couldn't let anything happen to you. Not to you," she pulled back again, placed her fingers to his cheek. "Not because of me. I just needed to fix… everything."

He said nothing. He wasn't sure he could find anything to say. His head was muddled and he swore he couldn't pick a coherent thought from it.

"Please say something," she pled and her fingers curled around his shirt when he made a move to retreat. His hands closed over hers then pulled them from him. He stepped back, turned and looked everywhere but at her.

He should be cherishing this moment. He had her, she wasn't dead. She wasn't lost to him. She was here, within reach, within touching distance. He should be holding her, thanking whatever God, or force was out there for her brilliant plan. But he couldn't. He felt…wrong. He didn't understand how she was here. One minute, she'd been Katherine in his eyes, now she was Elena. All the way here, she'd been Elena. How could he have not realized?

"Are you angry? Are you… _anything_?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, whirling around to face her then took a calming breath when he saw the pain written on her face. "I don't know what I am right now," he blew out a harsh breath, turned away from her again. "I want to be angry, I want to be… _livid."_ The word came out in a growl. "Fuck, Elena." He ran both hands through the roots of his hair and felt the thrum of his heart in reaction to voicing her name for the first time since he'd thought the opportunity was lost to him forever.

He turned back around on his heel. "Don't you get it? I thought you were dead." It hurt him even to remember how it had felt. "Yet there you were, next to me, in the car, pretending to be _Katherine." _ He ran a hand through his hair once more. "God, I don't know. I just need… I need some air." Not bothering to give her another glance, he left the room.

And Elena, even with the sickening worry that this was the beginning of a downward spiral that ended in him leaving her, let him.

Elena moved around the room and every now and then let her gaze drift to the closed door, unsure of what to do. With an aggravated exhale, she pulled her hair free then strolled into the tiny bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and scoffed with disgust. Her face was bashed and bruised where Frank had viciously hit her and the cut along her cheekbone was as clear as day now that the makeup had worn off and she wasn't using her hair to hide it. She hissed as her fingers lifted to prod it. But it was nothing compared to the others located further down her body.

Slashed at her shoulder and both arms, the blood that had seeped from each was dried and covered the undamaged skin surrounding. Twisting her arm around to unhook the clasp of her bra, she tried her best to ignore the burn erupted from the deep wounds that made her want to curl into a ball until it was no more. The black scrap of material hit the floor and she realised the worst was yet to come. She popped open the button of the jeans Katherine had given to her, bent with discomfort and mentally braced her-self before dragging the denim slowly down both legs. She cried out as it rubbed against the open wound upon her thigh and refused to move them any further for a few moments.

She gasped for a calming breath then began again. Convincing herself that this wasn't even near to how painful it'd been when she received it, as well as deciding it would be better if she got it over with quickly, she forced them down and yelled out when the sharp pain hit it.

She took a shuddering breath then stepped out of them.

She was sore, she was exhausted. And she just needed Damon to hold her. But she wasn't about to get that. The realization brought more tears to spill and a sob to rip its way from her chest. She dragged down the matching black panties, hissed when it grazed the wound then tossed them to the tiled floor to join the rest of the clothes that didn't belong to her.

She pushed back the see-through shower curtain, turned the knob located on the wall to medium heat and let her hand linger under the soft spray of water before hiking one leg, then the other over the side of the white bath to stand fully under it. The water dipped into the damaged flesh and she bit back a cry. She closed her eyes and ducked her head under the water.

Her hand splayed out against the wall tiles in front of her.

_Daddy!_

She heard the young girl inside shout. That's who it needed; her father. There had been a time when only her father could console her, heal her. Then he died, and she'd realized he wasn't there to help her get past it. The one person, who could fix her, was gone. And it wasn't until Damon came along that she realized she'd never really been fixed. All those years, she had been desperately holding together shattered pieces of herself, hiding behind the poorly glued together doll in her image, trying to make it through. Then he came along. And somehow, being with him, it fixed her. And the woman she was now needed him. She needed the man she'd fallen in love with, she needed the man she'd done all of this for, the man she'd do it a thousand times over for.

Twisting her neck, she inspected each cut. The water had washed away the dried blood, leaving the skin looking fresh. It didn't make her feel that way.

She heard soft, careful movement and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned, fear caught in the pit of her stomach that disappeared the moment she laid eyes on Damon. He was looking at her through the curtain with intense, sorrow-filled eyes. He stripped off his already open shirt and slipped out of his jeans, causing her blood to run hot and fast. She didn't think she'd seen any man as beautiful and sexy as him. Naked, he stepped into the deep bathtub and drew towards her, their eyes never unlocking.

"How could I not know?" it was a small murmur, something he was more likely saying to himself than to her. His hand went around the cup the back of her head and his lips lowered to skate under the cut on her cheekbone. Her body tensed, awaiting the wash of pain, but felt none. His lips barely touched her.

Her breath hitched and her eyes reflexively drifted close. Her hands curled into fists at her sides. He moved down, his lips finding the damaged flesh at her shoulder, then her upper arm. His fingers circled her one wrist, lifted it then let his lips run along the one on her forearm. And when his knees met with the bathtub floor and his hand ran down her stomach, she opened her eyes. Both hands drifted down to join his lips on her thigh, and she felt her heart might burst from her chest. His lips parted against her skin and the warmth of his breath touch her. His name fell from her lips in a whisper and her fingers tangled in the roots of his midnight hair, he seemed to revel in it.

Taking another long moment, his hand ran down the back of her leg while his lips remained ghosting over the deep, cruel cut. Then he rose up. His eyes wore a darkness that made her body quiver and beg for a release only he could give.

She didn't want to ruin the moment, to break the sensual silence, but she had to.

Her mouth opened but he stopped her. His head shook slightly and his fingers moved to touch her face. But they stopped before reaching her. Realizing the sudden war raging inside him, she took his hand and put it to her cheek. It set a certainty in his eyes and his touch that allowed her relief from the ache of worry she'd had since the plan had been put into motion. But the way he looked down at her now, the fascination, the awe, the desperation. It took her by the throat and had her forgetting everything that wasn't this very moment. His head tilted, his eyes scanned the place where his fingers trailed her neck before he moved in, and tasted. Her hands slid around his narrow waist and up the muscles of his back. He feasted on the weak spot of her neck, thoroughly, expertly. His one hand held her in place at the back of her head while the other slipped down her body to the desperate throb between her legs and cupped. Her teeth sank into his shoulder and a moan spilt onto the flesh as his fingers were welcomed by the wet heat he hadn't had the intense pleasure of experiencing for almost three months. He stroked her, hard and ideal, forcing her fingers to curl and her nails to dig into his back as an orgasm hit her.

He reared back a little, his eyes flickered over her face then he forced her back against the tiles. He moved in, and finally kissed her. It was hungry, it was everything she needed. It set her on fire and it comforted her. It was something she would never understand, and didn't have to. His hands took hold of her hips, lifted her off the ground. Her legs and arms locked around him and in one calculated drive, he buried himself inside her. He rolled his hips and she moaned as a second orgasm rattled through her.

He pulled almost all the way out, paused.

She looked at him, serious and genuine. "Don't hold back."

And he didn't. Reminding her why he was the best she ever had, he took her up until she thought she may explode if she went any further. Each time, his thrusts were harder, deeper, and it hit her with an increased pleasure every time. It was animalistic, desperate and made the pain in her wounds forgotten. Every now and then his fingers would trace the side of her face and his lips would grab hers in a kiss. He would look at her, in the way he always had and she was home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **SO I was having a conversation with my father, and he said about how he likes it how books dont always have a happy ending, and was mine a happy ending? And straight away I agreed, but said, the people in this deserve it. And they do, Elena more than anyone, so it's never been any other way this was going to go than a happy one. It was never going to be left with Elena dead, it was always this. A glamour, a trick of the mind.

Truthfully, I'm nervous about this. I don't know if you're not going to like what happened, or think its unrealistic, but to me, it's not. There are small hints showing its not Katherine. The way she becomes in more pain than she should be when he grabs her, the way she responded to Damon's touch in the car, the emotion she let slip, the anxiety, the way she looked at him when he first showed up, then sort of masked it. And at the end of the day, Damon's so overcome with emotion, he barely looks at Katherine, not really. Which again, proves there is no one but Elena for him. I was wary going in, describing what it felt to lose someone because well, I've never lost someone like that. But fingers crossed, it was believable because everyone knows pain, and everyone knows struggle. Some more than others, but you get the gist.

I know I said this was the last chapter, but I cut it in half. So one more left! Then its finished. Its not going to be some fairy tale ending, because well, Elena still has explaining to do, which will all be in the next chapter. The whole plan, it's all being told right now, I'm still going ;)

That's enough from me! I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think etc etc. I adore the reviews, the favourites, the follows, even the people just viewing. You're amazing.

OH and if any of you have tumblr, follow me! I'll follow right back!

THANKS GUYS.


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